Beauty in the Eyes of the Detective
by Angelpuff99
Summary: Sherlock Holmes saw many things as a sociopath; some things that assisted his work as a consulting detective, and some things that he didn't even want to see. But what happens when he sees Alexis Gilmore, a young American artist whom he comes to admire...and soon love? Sherlock/OC. This story is overall rated T, though there will be Mature content. To see Alexis, look on cover.
1. Prologue

_Hello everyone! This is my first fanfic for _Sherlock _and I hope you all enjoy it. Please review if you like; try to be nice please! Because I'm very detail-oriented and flat out weird I'm going to put below the birthdates of Sherlock, John, and my OC Alexis. Ages are very important to me. _

_Sherlock – July 19, 1978_

_John – February 21, 1975_

_Alexis – September 9, 1984_

October 30, 2010

Alexis Gilmore had just finished work at the National Gallery of Art; she'd stayed late that day to assist in a drawing class being held there. It was 8:00 p.m., and she was headed out the back entrance of the Gallery to throw out some old supplies in the dumpster before she went home. It was pitch dark out, and for whatever reason the lights weren't turned on in the back of the Gallery. She placed the box of supplies on the ground and went back into the Gallery briefly to turn them on herself. She locked the door behind her, knowing that maintenance would turn them off when they finally left around ten. Because she did this, she hadn't initially seen the gentleman standing right behind her, so when she turned around she was startled by his presence.

"Hello, love," he greeted, smirking creepily at her.

Alexis kept a straight face, not wanting to show her concern. She simply replied with, "Good evening, sir. Is there something I can help you with?"

He looked her up and down, stepping closer to her. "I think you can, love. What's your name?"

He took another step toward her, backing her against the door. She could feel his breath against her face. Now she was panicking. She tried nonchalantly to open the door behind her, cursing herself as soon as she remembered that she'd just locked it.

"Oh, look at that," the man said, looking down at the door handle and placing his hands on either side of her against the door, "no way out." He grinned.

"Sir, l-look, I should t-tell you that there are cameras all over the premises of this Gallery," she began, her voice shaking as her fear was prominent at this point. "You're being watched as we s-peak!"

"Oh yeah?" He directed his attention toward the camera at the top of the building just to the right of them. "You see, love, those cameras usually have a little red light in the bottom corner that tells you there on and running. Tell me, love…do you see a little red light on that camera?"

She looked up at the camera, and her eyes went wide. No red light. She looked back into his eyes, cold and full of hate, and knew that she was in serious trouble.

"HEL-" She attempted to scream, but the man forcefully covered her mouth and shoved her against the door.

"No, no, no, no, no. We'll have none of that, love. You know why?" He kept one hand tight over her mouth and reached into his jacket pocket with another, slowly pulling out a pocket knife and holding it to her throat.

"Now, do you wanna die, or would you rather just do what I tell you?"

Tears were streaming down her face now. She knew where this was going, and she had to try to find some means of escape. She looked around hurriedly and noticed the box of supplies she hadn't yet thrown away. She quickly thought of something pathetic, but it was worth a try. Slowly, she looked back up into the man's eyes and nodded, hinting that she would do whatever he wanted her to do.

"Ah, very good." He lowered his hand from her mouth and leaned in to kiss her. Now would be her chance. As soon as he shut his eyes, she haphazardly kicked the box with her left foot into his legs and he stumbled slightly. He grunted, and she shoved him away and started to run off, only to be immediately halted by his foot tripping her and knocking her to the ground. She'd twisted her ankle on the way down, causing her to whimper as she weakly turned her body so that she was facing him as he stood above her menacingly. She tried to scramble away, but he got on his knees and gripped her injured ankle. He pulled out his knife once more and held it before his face.

"Alright, since you won't behave and do as I tell you, I'm just gonna have to kill you and enjoy you as a corpse."

She was so terrified that she couldn't even scream. Couldn't even move. As he made a move to stab her in the stomach, she closed her eyes and waited for the end. That was, until she heard the click of a gun being loaded.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

These words were clearly from the voice of a different man. Alexis opened her eyes and found a gentleman in dark clothes standing behind her captor, pointing a gun at the back of his head. The gentleman looked at her with intense eyes.

"Alexis Gilmore?" He asked, his voice deep with concern and purpose.

"Y-yes?" she replied, relieved but dumbfounded that he knew her name.

"Miss Gilmore, this gentleman was attempting to rape and murder you this evening. Run back into the Gallery and call the authorities. I'll take care of him here until they arrive."

"Oh, o-okay." She slowly got up and began to run with a limp to the front of the Gallery. When she was a few yards away, she heard a struggle and looked to find the man who attacked her elbowing the dark-clothed man in the thigh, causing him to groan and double back. He'd managed to punch him in the face before he would've been injured by his knife. Alexis looked back at them, wondering if she should try to help or just keep going.

"Alexis, run!" the dark-clothed man shouted, ducking as the other man came at him once more with the knife. She decided to take his advice and continued running until she rounded the corner to the front of the Gallery. By that time, her ankle had become so swollen that she could only helplessly jog until she finally made it to the main entrance.

"Andrew!" She shouted for the head of security as she crashed through the front doors, searching manically for anyone who could help not only her, but the man who had just saved her life.

"Andrew!" She shouted for him once more and gasped in relief as he ran down the staircase and into the foyer, his face full of concern. He rushed over to her and held her arms for support.

"Alexis, what's going on? Are you alright?"

"Andrew, you have to get someone to the back of the Gallery! I was just attacked and then someone saved me and I'm afraid he's going to get hurt or even killed! Please you have to help me!" This all came out in a rush, but Andrew got the gist of what she was saying and radioed for all available guards to head to the back of the Gallery.

"The tall man saved me…" was the last thing she choked out before she finally broke down in Andrew's arms and cried into his chest. The dropped down to the floor as Andrew held her, calling the authorities as he did so.

Once the police arrived to the Gallery, Alexis was escorted out to an ambulance where she was wrapped in a blanket and finally calmed down enough to clearly explain what happened to a Police Sergeant. Sergeant Sally Donovan; they thought it best for her to talk to a woman considering she'd just been attacked by a man.

"And this man who saved you," Sally continued, speaking calmly to Alexis, "describe him to me. What did he look like?"

"Well," Alexis began, trying hard to remember what he looked like, "he was tall, much taller than the man who attacked me. He had…dark hair, it was short. He was wearing a long dark coat, and I think he had a scarf on. That was also dark."

Sally's eyes narrowed as she thought to herself. "Good, that's good, Alexis. Anything else?"

"Nothing that I could think of, really. Um, maybe that-"

She stopped right in the middle of her sentence and looked straight ahead. In the middle of the long stairway that led to the Gallery stood Detective Inspector Lestrade, the leader of this investigation, and the man who saved her was right next to him.

"That's him."

Sergeant Donovan looked over at him and frowned. "Excuse me, Alexis," she simply said as she got up from the back of the ambulance and began to walk towards the two gentlemen. Alexis could've sworn she said the word freak, but she quickly disregarded that and slowly rose from the ambulance. She shrugged the blanket from her shoulders and began walking toward the three of them. Sergeant Donovan appeared to be scolding the gentleman as Lestrade looked on impatiently, but everyone stopped and looked at Alexis as she approached them.

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything, but…" She looked straight into the eyes of the man who saved her. "You are one who saved my life, right?"

Sergeant Donovan rolled her eyes as Lestrade glared at her. The man ignored them and smiled politely at her.

"Yes, I am. Sherlock Holmes." He gently held out his hand for her to shake, which she did with ease.

"Alexis Gilmore. Though I believe you knew that already," she replied, giving him a small smile.

"Yes, he did, Miss Gilmore. And how _did_ you know that, Sherlock Holmes? I'm sure she'd love to know that as well as how you knew to find her just in time." Donovan was clearly agitated, though Alexis hadn't a clue why. Though she had to admit, she was curious as to how he knew these things.

"Donovan, don't you have a report to file?" Lestrade asked, hinting for her to leave them. She walked off in a huff, and he turned back to the two of them. "Sherlock, I trust that you can tell Miss Gilmore everything she needs to know, right?"

"Of course, Detective Inspector."

"Good. Holler when you're done, I've still got some questions for you."

He walked over to another group of officers, leaving Sherlock and Alexis looking at each other.

"So…how _did _you know my name, Mr. Holmes?" Alexis asked him.

"I knew your name, Miss Gilmore, because the man who attacked you knew your name. His name is Alexander Russell. He's raped and murdered three women within the last five months, and you were intended to be his fourth victim."

Her eyes widened. "Oh God…I-I'd heard about him in the news. He'd killed those women in separate parts of London, I never once assumed that he'd…"

"He was working his way around the city, never wanting to have two victims in one area for fear of being more easily traced. What he did was he would pick a victim and stalk them. Find out everything about them, follow them wherever they went, recognize the patterns of their daily lives and thus figure out the perfect opportunity to attack them. In your case, he knew you were staying late to assist with the drawing class that was taking place at the Gallery and knew that you would be going home alone, in the dark, with little to no protection."

Her world stopped. Everything around her was a complete blur and all she could focus on was what Sherlock had just told her. She unconsciously sank onto the stairs, looking out into the night as she contemplated the danger she'd been in not just that night, but for so long before that. She was stalked by a murderer and a rapist.

"He…he stalked me? He knew everything about me?"

Sherlock lowered to the step beside her. He knew he should probably have been gentler with her; though things like that never came easily to him. But with her, he needed to be.

"Yes. He knew everything…and therefore, _I_ needed to know everything. I needed to know your name, your occupation, where you live, your activities, anything that he would have needed to know. I should tell you, the intent was merely to corner him and catch him before he could claim another victim. I never intended for him to go as far as he did with you."

Alexis knew she probably should've been concerned that this man, who she wasn't even sure what his role with the police was, knew just as much about her as Alexander Russell did. However, somehow, she wasn't. Sure, she was shaken up about the whole thing, but this man saved her life. She was able to walk away from this alive and unharmed because of him.

"It's okay," she replied simply. "Really. Not much harm was done, and this guy is going to get locked up now. I'm glad I could help…in a way."

He was surprised by her response. Normally, any other woman probably would have screamed at him for putting her in danger _and _looking up all of her information. But this woman, she was calm; grateful, even.

"I know you now know everything about me, and I know nothing about you, but you saved my life, Mr. Holmes. I'm alive because of you. I really don't know how to thank you."

"There's no need. And Sherlock, please."

She smiled at him. "I am curious, though, what is your role in the police department?"

"Oh I don't work for the police department."

"You don't?"

"No. I'm a consulting detective."

"A _consulting _detective?"

"Yes. I work with the police. Whenever they're out of their depth, they consult me. I've been following this case from the beginning, you see. I only took an intensive interest when you became involved, Miss Gilmore."

"Alexis, please."

He grinned. "Very well."

"So you're not an official detective but you're pretty much qualified to be one?"

"Over qualified."

She giggled, the first bit of happiness she'd felt in a while. "So it would seem."

The two of them sat together in silence for a while, quite comfortably. Alexis was slowly calming down from her shock, unfortunately tuning in to the pain of her swollen ankle.

"Shall I get you an ice pack for your ankle?"

She looked up at him, not sure how he realized that her ankle was bothering her. Did he even notice it was injured while she was attacked?

"Um, yeah, sure. Thank you."

"Of course."

She watched as he walked swiftly towards the ambulance, his long coat almost floating behind him in the breeze. She was still a bit tense, so she just sat and watched as he spoke with the medic whilst the ice pack was being wrapped. Watching him and being around him almost calmed her; comforted her, even. Sherlock was definitely an intriguing individual, there was no doubt about that. But besides what she saw on the surface, she knew there was much more to him that met the eye. Something more that she would like to find out for herself.

"Alexis!"

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she heard her name and saw her friend Gwen running towards her, panic covering her entire face. Alexis sat up straight as Gwen hastily sat down beside her and pulled her into a hug.

"I got here as fast as I could! Oh god, I'm so sorry! I should've met up with you after the class, we could've gone out for drinks or something! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Gwen, I'm fine. Please don't blame yourself, you couldn't have known. And trust me, it could've been a lot worse."

"Oh god," Gwen muttered, holding her friend close. "Stay at my place tonight, okay?"

"Sure, if that's what you want, then I'll stay. Thanks."

"Alexis," Sergeant Donovan greeted, walking towards them, "here's an ice pack for your ankle. When you feel up to it, you can go on home. Someone will be in touch to discuss the legal matters of this tomorrow."

"Thank you, Sergeant Donovan, but where is Sherlock?"

"Who?" Gwen asked.

"Oh, him? He just left. He tends to do that. I wouldn't take it personally. Besides, he almost never speaks to the victims, let alone takes an interest."

She walked back to one of the police cars, leaving both women equally confused. Gwen wanted to know who Sherlock was, and you could say Alexis wanted to know that as well. More importantly, she wanted to know if she would ever see him again.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Hi everyone! I'm so glad those of you who reviewed loved the prologue! I will definitely be updating as often as I can. And just so you know, I'm a little iffy as to what I think of this particular chapter; it wasn't easy to write. **_

_**Midnight Angel414: Don't worry; plenty of M rated material will come into the story in time ;P**_

_**Peppermione: Thank you! There will definitely be more; I plan on making this a long story. & yes I just had to incorporate a little Donovan disrespect into it ;) **_

_**Enjoy chapter 1! & if you haven't read the prologue you really must! The flashback in this chapter will make so much more sense!**_

_**P.S. – Just going to give a quick shout-out to all my foreign readers! I think it's awesome my story has reached so many countries!**_

3 Months Later…

January 29, 2011

He was late again. Second week in a row. Alexis sat alone inside the Maison Bertaux café, waiting for Sherlock to arrive for their weekly tea. She was already on her second cup, as he was twenty minutes late and he'd texted her to have the tea sent to the table. At times, she felt her patience thinning, but she knew deep down that whatever he was doing, it was important. So, she simply sipped her tea and waited for her friend to arrive, knowing that whatever his reason is for being late, it would definitely be interesting.

About five minutes later, just as she was pouring herself her third cup of tea, the bell hanging on the front door of the café sounded. Alexis looked up and smiled. Sherlock had finally arrived, and he was removing his scarf and coat as he swiftly approached her table.

"Afternoon," he greeted, placing his coat on the back of the chair opposite Alexis and sitting down.

"Hey, Sherlock," she replied, pouring him a cup of tea.

"Thank you." He put two spoonfuls of sugar into his tea and slowly stirred it in. Alexis looked at him hopefully, but his gaze was fixed on his cup.

"So," she began, "what was it this time?"

He looked up from his cup, her eyes polite yet wondering. He cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, a doctor who worked for St. Bart's recently passed and donated his body for medical research. Molly was kind enough to allow me to experiment on it for a case. The findings really were indispensible."

"Ah, so… does this mean you've solved another case?"

"Not quite. I'm waiting for the results of the blood test I performed today."

"Oh. Okay."

They sat quietly for a moment, then Sherlock spoke again.

"And by the way, that wasn't the reason I was late today."

"Oh?"

"No, you see as I was performing the test, one of the doctors I know came into the lab with an old friend of his. John Watson, an Army doctor recently invalided home from Afghanistan. He's looking for a flat mate, just like I am."

"I take it you didn't find out this information by asking him," she teased.

"No. His conversation when he initially walked into the room proved that he trained at Bart's. His haircut and the way he holds himself shows that he's been in the military. He also has a tanned face but no tan above the wrists; he's been abroad, but not sunbathing. The only thing I had to inquire was his location; Afghanistan or Iraq."

She looked at him with amazement. She could never get used to his deductions.

"Wow. Anything else?"

"Yes. He's got a brother who's a drinker and recently walked out on his wife. Oh, and a psychosomatic limp."

"How do you know it's psychosomatic?"

"He doesn't ask for a chair to sit down, which means he's forgotten about it and therefore is in no actual pain. The circumstances of the initial injury were clearly traumatic; war hero, you know."

The look of amazement never left her face. "And how does this John Watson feel about you knowing all of this about him?"

He smirked to himself. "He appeared somewhat irritated, but no less amazed than you are at the moment."

"I can imagine. And you said that he was looking for a flat mate as well. Are you going to show him the flat at…what was it, Baker Street?"

"Yes, 221 B. We'll meet there tomorrow evening at seven."

"Does he know you've already moved in?"

"Nope."

"Alright then."

They sat in silence for the next few minutes, each occasionally sipping their tea while glancing at the other; wondering if they were going to say something. Alexis hated when this happened. She knew Sherlock got bored easily, and she hated to be the cause of that boredom.

She poured herself another cup of tea, adding three spoonfuls of sugar and stirring it in slowly; just as Sherlock had before. Her gaze was set on her cup the entire time; only when she was done stirring did she look up to find Sherlock staring intently at her. She felt a blush rising to her face.

"What is it?" she asked, hoping her blush wasn't too obvious.

He remained stagnant for a moment, not answering her question. He was stuck in his own world, examining every inch of her which he could see. She didn't look any different than she did any other day, yet he couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off of her. However, it soon clicked that she was aware of his staring and he quickly had to come up with an acceptable answer to her question.

"Nothing, just…those are new earrings, aren't they?"

His question took her by surprise; he never asked her about her appearance before. She didn't think he even cared.

"Um, yeah. Yeah they are. I'm surprised you noticed."

"Yes, well, only because they compliment the shape of your face and bring out the already prominent blue color of your eyes. They really suit you."

She was taken aback. Not only did he notice something about her appearance, but he complimented her on it. She tried her hardest not to smile like an idiot, but she couldn't help herself.

"Thank you, Sherlock."

"Of course." He smiled back at her, but was mentally kicking himself. What was he doing?

They remained at the café for another half hour, discussing further into how Alexis's day went. She talked about how she was training a new, very eager docent at the Gallery. She made the mistake of comparing herself to the docent and Sherlock went on for a good five minutes about how she has much more experience and that putting herself down wasn't becoming. Alexis was flattered, of course, but embarrassed for possibly appearing ridiculous in front of Sherlock.

Once they departed, Alexis simply took a cab over to Westminster and walked onto one of the sidewalks of Westminster Bridge and settled in the middle of it. She stared off into the Thames, unable to get her mind off of Sherlock. She couldn't lie to herself any longer; she had a huge, hopeless crush on him. For as long as she had known him, being around Sherlock Holmes was always exhilarating and nerve-wracking for her. At first she thought it was only infatuation from the fact that he'd saved her life, but as she came to know him over the past three months she realized that she truly did like him.

It was hopeless, however, to have a crush on Sherlock Holmes. She knew he couldn't be gay, but he didn't seem to have any interest in women or romance or anything along those lines at all. He was focused, deliberate, logical, and so incredibly brilliant.

So why on earth would he ever be interested in her? A shy, twenty-six year old Museum Educator who had no experience with love whatsoever; had never even been kissed! If Sherlock were to ever be with a woman, it would most likely be with someone extraordinary and clever; and certainly not shy in any aspects of herself. Alexis knew she didn't have a chance with him.

But why was he staring at her so intently during tea? And once she caught him staring at her, why did he seem so tripped up? She remembered the way his eyes looked; those icy blue pools full of intense concentration, just as they did when he was focused on a case. However, in this instance, he was focused on her; even more so, it seemed as though he was _admiring _her.

That day's tea got her thinking about her relationship with Sherlock, and so she found herself remembering back to the day they met for the second time. It was a week after she'd been attacked…

_It was Alexis's day to give the Guided tours of the Gallery. It was 3:15, and the second and final tour of the day was nearly finished. She stopped the tour and briefly discussed one of her favorite pieces in the museum; _A Woman standing at a Harpsichord, a Man seated by her _by Jacob Ochtervelt. She was turned towards the crowd about to explain the history behind the painting when a gentleman standing across the room caught her eye. His back was turned so she couldn't exactly make out who he was, but his stature seemed all too familiar. Shrugging it off, she continued to explain the history of the painting, all the while glancing at the gentleman who refused to turn around. _

_ She was about to escort the group into Room 64 when she glanced over at the man one last time. To her surprise, he had finally turned around and revealed himself to be someone who she had been thinking about for a while._

_ "Sherlock Holmes." _

_ Alexis whispered his name to herself, inaudibly to others but it seemed that, somehow, he was able to hear it. Just as she said it, he looked up and made eye contact with her. Their gaze remained locked for a moment before she remembered where she was. She snapped back into focus and saw the group looking quizzically at her._

_ "Sorry," she said to them quickly, "this way please as we take a look at artwork that was painted in the prosperous German city of Cologne…"_

_ Once the tour was over, Alexis quickly made her way back to Room 63 to try and track down Sherlock. She pushed her way past countless employees and tourists and finally got to where she wanted to be, only to be met by an empty room._

_ "Damnnit," she muttered to herself. She'd missed him. _

_ She mentally kicked herself for not going to him straightaway, but she also wondered: why was he there? The case had long been closed, and the court date was to be set a month from then. What would he be doing at an art museum?_

_ "Ochtervelt is your favorite, isn't he?"_

_ Alexis jumped and yelped at the sudden voice. She spun around, clutching her chest slightly. Ever since the encounter the previous week, she had been very jumpy and nervous. However, she was relieved and even pleased when she turned around to find Sherlock Holmes standing before her._

_ "Mr. Holmes, hi," she greeted, holding out her hand. He shook it politely and smiled._

_ "Sherlock, please. Sorry to have startled you."_

_ "Oh no, it's fine. I've just been a bit jumpy this past week."_

_ "Understandable. Won't happen again. Now Ochtervelt, he's your favorite, is he not?"_

_ She turned around to look at the painting she'd discussed earlier, confused, then back to him. "Um, you could say he's one of my favorites, yes. At least the painting itself is. Why do you ask?"_

_ He slowly walked over to the painting and turned around to face her. "Throughout the entire tour, you lead the group into each room and gave a brief description of the general theme of that particular room. However, there were a few cases where you would direct the group's attention toward a particular painting and give a brief history into that painting. You didn't do this in every room, though, so it shows that these particular paintings are your favorites in the Gallery and you want to point them out. And as I listened to you describe this painting, your voice became more enthusiastic and you spent approximately 30 seconds longer describing this painting over any other you stopped to describe."_

_ She was speechless. _How on Earth did he notice all that? _she thought to herself. _

_ "Wow that was…well, you're quite right. This is actually one of my favorite paintings. That was…impressive."_

_ "I simply observed. I'm curious, though, why is it you like this painting so much?"_

_ "Why? Um…" She walked up to stand beside him, studying the painting carefully as she thought up a way to express her appreciation in at least a somewhat intelligent way._

_ "Well, the woman's dress initially catches the eye. It's a very vibrant pink, not a very common color at the time. This painting was said to be done between 1675 and 1680. That was an extremely conservative time back then. Your typical woman would never even think of wearing a color like that, especially not out in public. That sort of tells me that this woman is very independent, fearless, probably didn't have a very strict household growing up. She's daring in that sense, which makes me very much admire the painting. And though I realize her dress isn't meant to be the subject of this painting, it's what sticks out to me the most; not just because of the color, but because of what it means for her to be wearing that color. But of course I do appreciate her ability to make music, as well."_

_ Sherlock shot her an approving glance. "That was very insightful, Alexis. Not many people would take such an interest into a painting such as this. You are a true artist."_

_ She smiled up at him, taking the compliment to heart. "Thank you, Sherlock. I do have to ask though; why are you here?"_

_ "Why not? This is a public gallery, is it not?"_

_ "No, of course it is! It's just…"_

_ "Just what?" _

_ "…it's just a bit of a coincidence, isn't it? You showing up here a week after I was attacked."_

_ He cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I just happened to be in the area. I didn't get a chance to say a proper good-bye last week."_

_ She merely stared at him, both of them knowing that wasn't the right answer._

_ "Also, I just wanted to see if you were alright. You were quite shaken up that night. Understandably, obviously. I was just…curious." He tried hard to hide his apprehension, but she could see that he was straining to keep a straight face as he stared intently at the painting. However, she merely smiled at him. She was very flattered by his concern._

_ "Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you, Sherlock. And I'm fine, by the way. I'll be better once the trial is over with and that monster is locked up, but I'm okay."_

_ "Good. Very good. Well then, that's settled. Good day, Alexis." He turned on his heel and began to walk swiftly out of the room. Alexis quickly followed him and grabbed him by the arm._

_ "Wait, is that it?" _

_ "Is that what?"_

_ "Well, you go out of your way to stop into the National Gallery to see if I'm alright and then you just leave?"_

_ "To be fair, I did inquire about your interests in regards to that painting over there."_

_ "I know, but is that it?"_

_ "I don't see how my presence is necessary any further."_

_ She looked at him questioningly, pleading with herself to find the right words. "Well…there is the fact that you know almost everything about me."_

_ "Yes, because I had to mirror the exact actions of the man who tried to kill you."_

_ "I know, and I'm certainly not blaming you. I don't even really mind, you see, I'm just…"_

_ "Just what?"_

_ She was dumbfounded; this man was clever and she didn't know how to answer him. She really didn't want him to just leave. _

_ "I see," he began, catching her off guard. "You're curious as to what I think of you."  
"No, I didn't say that-"_

_ "You didn't have to. You clearly don't want me to leave judging by your body language and general apprehension as shown through the wideness of your eyes. You're at least somewhat concerned with that fact that I know practically everything there is to know about you, apart from a few details. I should inform you that I do not intend to use any of this information against you and will most likely delete it from my memory once I acquire new information which I will need to store in my mind. However, you don't just want me to leave the Gallery, you're concerned you won't ever see me again, and you're trying to keep this conversation going as long as you can by questioning my motives."_

_ Her hand dropped from his arm and hung limply beside her as she stared at him, her mouth agape. He had her. _

_ "I-I guess you're right. But can you blame me?"_

_ "No, no I don't suppose I could."_

_ "Right. Well, would you at least consider having tea with me?" _

_ "Tea? What for?"_

_ "Well…" she thought for a moment, thinking of anything she could say to convince him to agree to it, "I know that you know everything about me and it would be foolish to ask you about it, but I think I just need to hear what you know coming directly from your mouth. And plus…you saved my life, Sherlock. I am alive because of you. I feel I need to repay you somehow."_

_ "So you want to repay me with tea?"_

_ She smiled. "I think it's a start."_

_ He thought for a moment, then looked down at her and nodded. "Very well."_

That was the first time they went to the Maison Bertaux together. Sherlock pretty much read her whole life story to her, and she didn't mind at all. There were times where he hit a nerve when discussing certain parts of her past, but he seemed to realize when he did so (judging by her body language apparently) and quickly apologized and moved on.

It had been an intriguing experience for her, for Sherlock Holmes was an intriguing man. The best part of it had to have been when he asked her to tea the following week. From there, it became a tradition between the two of them. Tea at 5:30 p.m. every Friday after Alexis got off of work. Knowing how busy Sherlock could be, she was always surprised, and grateful, that he was always able to make it.

He was amazing, and she was crushing on him. If only she had the courage to tell him about it…


	3. Chapter 2

_**Hello again! Just wanted to make one note about the story: I'm going to be following along with the currently existing series, modifying some details to work with my OC, then going off on my own after "The Reichenbach Fall". (No, of course I'm not going to end it right after Sherlock's "death." )**_

_**Amirizar2003: You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that! I'm so glad they seem to have good chemistry together! As I said before I was a little worried about the previous chapter.**_

* * *

January 30, 2011

_"You were born in London on September 9, 1984. You have a sister who was born a year later, Abigail. You lived here with your family until you were four years old, until your father moved you and your younger sister to America after your mother died of an aneurism. It happened when you and she were taking a walk in the park…are you alright?"_

_ Alexis was staring down at her cup, blinking back tears. She was silently cursing herself for doing so, but when speaking of her mother it was hard not to do._

_ "Yes, I'm fine. Please, go on."_

_ He looked at her questioningly, then continued. "You graduated from Fox Chapel Senior High School with a 3.8 grade point average, then received an Associate in Science in Art from the Community College of Allegheny County. From there, you went on to study abroad at the Courtauld Institute of Art where you received a Bachelor of Arts in Art History."_

_ "You've certainly done your homework. But you didn't even mention my stepmother."_

_ "Right. Your father married Anne Marie Wilkes in 1993. They didn't have any children together."_

_ "Good. Go on."_

_ He paused for a moment, staring at her intently._

_ "What is it?"_

_ "You didn't like your stepmother very much."_

_ "How could you tell?"_

_ "They way you inquired about my knowledge of her. Your eyes narrowed slightly and your tone lowered significantly."_

_ "Hmm," she mused, "well nobody really likes their stepparents, do they?"_

_ "I suppose not, but your dislike of her isn't because of any specific actions. It's merely because she wasn't your true mother."_

_ She stared at him for a moment. Never had anyone said that to her before. Most people were afraid of being brutally honest with each other, but not him. Not Sherlock Holmes. _

_ This was the very reason why she pushed her chair out, walked around the table, grabbed him by the back of the head and crushed her lips to his._

Her eyes shot open, and she immediately realized she'd been dreaming. She stared up at the ceiling, half wishing what she'd just dreamt about was true. This wasn't the first time she'd had that dream. It first occurred a month after she'd first met Sherlock. This was an alternate version of the first time they'd had tea. In reality, she merely stared at him with her mouth agape, and he had to inquire if he'd been insensitive. "Not good?" Were his exact words. Obviously, she told him it was fine, and he went on. No kissing whatsoever.

She groaned and buried her face in her pillow, fighting with herself to go back to sleep. It was her day off, so she didn't plan on doing anything that day. Gwen would probably want to go out for drinks, but nothing was going to get her out of her flat that day. Nothing.

Or so she thought.

* * *

10:00 p.m.

Alexis was curled up on the couch watching "Doctor Who" when her phone rang. She looked down at the caller I.D. and saw that it was Gwen. She stared at it for a moment, reluctant to answer since she would probably be begging her to come down to whatever bar she'd decided to go to that evening. She decided to ignore it, only to have it go off again. And again. And once more after that.

"What the hell?" she said out loud. She contemplated calling her back, only to have her text alert go off.

**Will you answer your phone? **

She received another call from her, and picked it up right away.

"Hey what is it?" Alexis greeted.

"_Please tell me you weren't asleep, Lex. You're twenty-six, not seventy-six."_

"I wasn't!" she snapped. "Anyway, what is it? And if you're going to ask me to hit the pubs with you, the answer is no."

_"No, it's not that! I'm in a cab headed back to my flat and as we were passing by some college, er, Roland Curr Further Education College I think the cabbie said, I'm pretty sure I saw someone you know."_

"Who?"

_"Well I should tell you that there were a whole lot of policemen there, as well as an ambulance. The whole place was blocked off. I'd swear somebody'd been murdered."_

"Gwen, who was it?"

_"I'm not sure, exactly. I know you and I saw him at one point. Erm…he was wearing a lot of black and he had dark curly hair_ _and-"_

"Sherlock?"

_"Yes that's it! He was sat in the back of the ambulance with some kind of blanket around him. I don't-"_

Alexis immediately hung up the phone and sprinted into her room to put on some fresh clothes and hurried out of her flat. She was able to grab a cab right away and promised the cabbie ten extra pounds if he could hurry; he complied.

_If he was sitting upright in the ambulance, then he must be fine, _she told herself. _He's Sherlock, he's okay._

She tried reassuring herself over and over that he was okay, but her overactive imagination kept picturing the worst case scenario. This and the fact that Gwen wasn't the most observant person in the world made her even more anxious to get to him. She felt helpless, and the cab ride seemed to be taking forever.

When they finally arrived ten minutes later, Alexis practically threw the cab fare at the cabbie and ran out of the vehicle. She moved onto the sidewalk opposite the college and searched frantically for Sherlock. She looked to the ambulance, which had been closed up and moved nearly out of view. If he'd been in there and needed serious medical attention, then it would have been gone already. She continued to search for him, and exhaled in relief when she finally saw him walking away from the crime scene, a short gentleman walking by his side.

"Sherlock!"

She shouted his name and ran across the street without looking. He and the other gentleman looked up and confusion spread across their faces.

"Alexis?" Sherlock questioned aloud and picked up his pace as Alexis ran towards him, visibly worried. When she finally got to him, she threw herself into his arms and hugged him. This surprised Sherlock, but he returned the hug nonetheless.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her, pulling away and looking at her.

"My friend passed by here and said she saw you in the back of an ambulance. Are you okay?"

"Of course I am. Well, I was standing five feet away from a serial killer as he was shot dead by an unknown gunman –" He shot the gentleman standing beside him a quick look. "and I admit that did surprise me but I'm perfectly alright."

Her eyes went wide. "A serial killer?"

"Oh don't worry, I had it perfectly under control. You see, the gentleman who was just killed murdered four people within the last three months, but made them all look like suicides. I'm sure you've been following the story."

"Yes, actually, I have been. So, they weren't suicides? They were murders?"

"Indeed."

She looked out onto the crime scene in disbelief, then back at him. "But you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

They looked at each other for a moment. Alexis's gaze was full of relief and amazement while Sherlock's was still full of confusion, but also gratitude. He couldn't believe that she'd been so worried for his safety. You could say he found it endearing.

They were interrupted by the sound of the other gentleman clearing his throat. He'd been standing by quietly the whole time, but he was beginning to feel like a third wheel. The two of them snapped back into attention.

"Oh, forgive me. Alexis this is John Watson, my new flat mate."

Alexis was pleasantly surprised, and she politely smiled at him. "John Watson, nice to meet you."

"Pleasure," he replied, shaking her hand. "Are you a friend of Sherlock's?"

"I am."

"Ah." He looked at the two of them, thinking about his conversation with Sherlock earlier about how girlfriends weren't really his area. He was beginning to think that wasn't entirely true.

"Well, I suppose you two will want to get home. Sherlock, I'm glad you're okay."

"Thank you, Alexis."

She made a move to walk away, but John suddenly interjected.

"Actually, Sherlock was just telling me about a lovely Chinese that's open until two over on Baker Street. We were about to go, but then I remembered that I left the stove on in my flat."

"What?" Sherlock inquired, knowing he was lying.

"Yeah, sorry mate. But maybe Alexis would like to go with you."

The two of them looked at her, catching her off guard.

"Um, sure, but only if you're up to it, Sherlock."

He thought for a moment, then looked at Alexis. "Sure."

"Good. I'll be 'round to the flat with my things tomorrow. Night, Sherlock. Nice to meet you Alexis."

"You too," she replied as he walked off to hail a cab, leaving Sherlock and Alexis standing on the sidewalk.

"He seems nice," she said, breaking the brief silence between them.

"Yes. Shall we?"

* * *

"Two pills?"

At this point, Alexis had stopped eating completely and focused all of her attention on Sherlock as he told her of the events earlier that night.

"Yes. One that contained a lethal poison, and one that contained no medication whatsoever. He forced his victims to choose one of the pills and he would take the other. "Together, we take our medicine" is how he put it."

"My god." She managed to take a bite of her General Tso's chicken before he continued.

"I know. All for his children."

She nearly choked on her water as she took a sip. "You mean that maniac had children?"

"Yes. He told me he had a sponsor. A sponsor who saw to it that for every life he took, money went to his children. He wanted his children to have financial security after he was dead. He himself was dying."  
"Really? What, did he have cancer or something?"

"An aneurism."  
She froze at the word, then looked down at her plate to take another bite. "Oh," she simply said.

He held his breath, half regretting what he'd told her. He knew it was the truth but he also knew that she was very sensitive when it came to aneurisms.

"Well that still didn't give him the right to take lives," she finally said, allowing him to relax. "Besides, who in God's name would sponsor a serial killer?"

"Moriarty."

His voice was filled with the same darkness as he'd said it before, and it sent chills up Alexis's spine.

"Who's Moriarty?" she asked slowly.

"I don't know."

They remained silent for a moment, each taking a bite from their own plate. It gave Alexis a chance to take in everything she'd just heard, then build up the courage to tell him what she had to say next.

"I still think it was really risky getting into that cab with him, Sherlock."

"I told you, I had it all under control."

"But what if you didn't, Sherlock? What if he tried to pull something?"

"I would have known. I observed every move he made and made the proper deductions."

"I know that, but-"

She stopped herself and just looked at him. Nothing she could say would convince him otherwise; or rather, nothing she could say would convince _herself _otherwise. Sherlock was just that good. Nothing could stop him.

"But?"

He waited for an answer, his eyes piercing into hers. She simply exhaled and gave up.

"Nothing, Sherlock. You're right. You always know what's going to happen, and you always solve the case. You always turn out okay, too. You're just amazing like that."

His eyes widened slightly. _Amazing?_

"And…I know it may not mean much coming from me, but…I care about you. I just want you to be okay."

At that moment, Sherlock looked at Alexis as though he were seeing her for the first time. Not as she'd been when she was being attacked by Alexander Russell. No, this time she looked completely different. This time, he saw her as a vulnerable, honest, beautiful woman. The words she spoke to him reached somewhere deep inside his heart; a place where he hadn't felt much in a very long time. He was overwhelmed.

"How are we doing over here?"

Sherlock was surprised by the waitress's presence, but he cleared his throat and addressed her confidently.

"Fine, thank you. Are you finished, Alexis?"

"Yes," she told her, smiling and handing the waitress her plate. Sherlock did the same and then reached for his wallet inside his back pocket.

"I'll take care of the meal," he said, placing a twenty pound note on the table.

"That's fine. I'm afraid I only have money for the tip anyway. I gave most of my money to the cabbie that drove me to the college."

"Of course."

They paid the waitress and walked out of the restaurant.

"Thank you for dinner," Alexis told him. "It was the best meal I had all day."

"I gathered that considering you haven't left your flat all day."

"How did you…? Nevermind." He grinned.

"Well I'm sure you'll want to get back to your flat now," she told him.

"I suppose."

She looked at him for a moment, then said, "Right. Well, good night, Sherlock."

She started to walk in the other direction, but Sherlock shook his head and walked after her.

"Alexis, wait."

She turned to face him, unaware that he'd come so close and was taken aback.

"May I walk you home?"

"I, er, well my flat is two miles away from here Sherlock. Do you really want to walk that far?"

"It's not a problem."

She thought about it for a moment, then smiled. "Okay then. It's such a nice night, anyway. I could use the walk."

He smiled and offered her his arm. She locked it with hers and they made their way down to Whitehall Place.

**To be continued!**


	4. Chapter 3

_**SORRY FOR THE DELAY! I just started a part time job & it's my very first job so I've been stressing. This directly continues from the end of Chapter 2! Things are picking up now! **_

_**Also, Whitehall Place (as mentioned at the end of the last chapter) is an actual street in London. I've also put a link at the bottom of the chapter to a flat in London that I'm using as a reference for what Alexis's flat looks like. (Yes, I did indeed go all out.)**_

* * *

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

Alexis was shocked when she realized it was Sherlock who said this. She looked up at him with amazement.

"I thought you didn't care about things like that."

He exhaled. "Well, that doesn't mean I can't appreciate it."

She smiled. "That's good. And I agree completely. It's so clear; you can see the stars. I love it when the sky is like this. I can just stare at it for hours."

"Hmm," he mused.

They walked in silence for the next few minutes. Sherlock couldn't get his mind off of what Alexis had said to him earlier. Her words were sincere; he could see it in her eyes as she told him. But why did she feel that way? Yes, he did save her life, but that wasn't the only reason she was friends with him. Did she find him interesting? Whenever he discussed one of his cases with her, she was always extremely attentive. Was that it then? She merely found him interesting? No, no, that couldn't be the only reason. There was more to her than that. She was sensitive, emotional. She was an artist; there was more to her than met the eye.

As he was contemplating the meaning behind her words, Alexis was just as thoughtful about what he himself had thought of them. Did she go too far? Did she sound too pathetic? Too cheesy? Did she make it sound like she had a crush on him? All of these questions made her mind and her heart race and she was afraid that Sherlock would pick up on her speeding pulse.

They were so engulfed in their own worries that, before they knew it, they were walking onto Whitehall Place. Each cursed themselves for worrying so much and not enjoying each other's company while they had the chance. They were about to come up to Alexis's flat when Sherlock finally spoke up.

"You're wrong, you know."

She looked up at him and furrowed her eyebrows. "Wrong? Wrong about what?"

He looked down into her eyes. "About thinking your words don't mean much coming from you. They meant a great deal."

"Really?"

"Yes. Alexis, I've told you time and time again that it's not becoming of you to doubt your worth." He paused a moment, realizing he was about to get very personal. Despite being extremely uncomfortable and not used to situations like this, he knew he had to tell her how he felt. "Your words count. _You _count. I consider it a privilege to call you a friend."

His words went straight to her heart. She stopped dead just before her flat and looked up at him, managing half a smile.

"Sherlock…that is…one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. And…I feel the same way." On a sudden impulse, she slowly reached up on her tip toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. He felt his skin turn from cold to warm upon her contact. It wasn't just a physical warmth, however. It was a warmth he felt inside his heart; a feeling he'd never experienced before. He was overwhelmed by it, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

"Alexis…" He whispered her name, but found himself tongue-tied afterward. He didn't know what to do or what to say. This was new territory for him. He was beginning to have feelings for her; feelings greater than just friendship.

He looked down into her piercing blue eyes. They were hopeful but he could detect a hint of apprehension in them. For she herself was nervous, as well. They'd been standing there staring at each other for some time. Sherlock knew he had to do something to ease the tension. But what? What…?

Then all at once, he knew what he wanted to do.

He slowly lifted his hand and gently brushed it against her cheek. He let his desire and affection take over as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was brief, but sweet. Sherlock pulled away a few inches from Alexis's face and looked into her eyes. She was completely caught off guard by the kiss, but had loved every second of it. Their gaze remained intensely locked, but she soon took the opportunity to pull him back in for another kiss. Her hands cupped his face as their lips mingled in sync with one another. It was nothing to deep or intense, just enough to let each other know how they really felt. After a few moments, they finally pulled away. Alexis smiled sweetly up at him as he rested his forehead against hers.

"Wow," Alexis finally managed to say.

"My thoughts exactly." He smiled back down at her and lightly kissed her lips once more. He brought his hands up to gently caress her face, loving the feeling of her skin. They were both so caught up in the moment that they'd forgotten where they were and how late it was until a car passing by honked its horn. Sherlock straightened up.

"Well…thank you for coming to the crime scene tonight, Alexis. It was…sweet."

She smiled at him. "Thank you for walking me home."

"Good night, Alexis."

"Good night, Sherlock."

He turned around and walked back down the sidewalk as she fished for her keys in her purse. Once she found them and stepped into her flat, she spun around and started giggling like a school girl. Sherlock Holmes had kissed her. The man she knew she would never have a chance with kissed _her. _She couldn't stop smiling from the time she walked through her door until she was settled in bed ready to go to sleep. One of her final lucid thoughts as she drifted off to sleep was wondering if Sherlock was as happy as she was.

Sherlock wondered precisely the same thing as he grinned the entire way home to 221B Baker Street.

* * *

January 31, 2011

The next morning, Sherlock's thoughts were consumed by the memory of the previous night. He had no regrets, just many, many questions.

Did this mean they were now a couple? Was it an unspoken commitment or something he needed to inquire with her about? Did she even want to be a couple with him? He'd never been this close with any woman before so these questions were to go unanswered until he saw Alexis again. Then he wondered when that would be. Should he wait to see her? Should he call her first? He found these questions to be horribly mundane and thought himself ridiculous for stressing over this so much. He almost didn't want to deal with it at all. However, when he thought of Alexis, he couldn't help but smile. The way her lips felt intertwined with his, the softness of her cheek, the beauty of that coy smile she gave him when the kiss finally ended. It brought that warmth back into his heart, and he held onto it for as long as he could.

"What are you smiling about?"

Sherlock was shocked out of his reverie when he heard Mrs. Hudson's voice. He looked up at her, realizing he was still smiling, and when straight faced.

"Nothing." He sipped his coffee and looked down at the paper he'd been trying to read all morning.

"I never see you smile like that, Sherlock. It's lovely." She smiled at him sweetly, but he turned his head and glared at her.

"I said it's nothing, Mrs. Hudson," he bit out at her. She simply sighed and went into the kitchen, tidying up anything that didn't look dangerous.

"I didn't hear you come in last night, Sherlock. How did the case turn out?"

He rolled his eyes, wishing she would leave him to his thoughts. "Fine."

"I'd love to hear how it went."

"In time."

"Will it be in the papers?"

"I expect so; it's been an ongoing case."

"I'm not going to get much out of you this morning, am I Sherlock?"

He looked over at her in the kitchen, a knowing expression on her face. He shrugged and went back to attempting to read the paper. Then the doorbell rang.

"Ah, that'll be John." He sprang from his chair and walked down the stairs to answer the door. He opened it to find John standing on the stoop with just three suitcases and five cardboard boxes; having just returned from Afghanistan and having money troubles, he expected he wouldn't have much luggage.

"Morning, Sherlock," John greeted, picking up two of the suitcases.

"Morning," he replied, stepping to the side so John could walk through. He stared down at the remaining suitcase and boxes, but quickly turned on his heel and followed John up to the flat. John went up to the bedroom to drop off the suitcases while Sherlock went back into the living room and took his seat back at the table. John quickly came back downstairs and stared at Sherlock in slight disbelief. He merely stared back and took another sip of his coffee.

"Right. I can manage the rest," John said.

Once John brought his things up to his bedroom, he went back into the living room with his laptop and took a seat in the armchair he'd unofficially claimed the night before. Sherlock looked up as he began typing.

"What are you typing?" he asked, finally able to concentrate on his paper.

"Blog."

"A blog? What about?"

"My therapist recommended I keep a blog about everything that happens to me. I haven't had much to write about, though. Not until last night, that is."

Sherlock absentmindedly smiled.

"So," John began, "how did it go last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what happened with that girl we met at the crime scene? Alexa was it?"

"Alexis," he firmly corrected, becoming annoyed. He didn't particularly want to discuss the previous night with anyone, as he was still confused about it.

"Right, Alexis. Nice girl. She's a friend, I take it?"

"Yes."

"Just a friend?"

He exhaled. "Why are we discussing this?"

"No reason. Just curious."

"About?"

John was silent for a moment, trying to word his inquiry in the right way. "Well, last night you said that girlfriends weren't really your area, but it seemed like there was more than just friendship between the two of you."

Sherlock snorted. "Where do you get that idea?"

"Just by the way you looked at her."

He folded his paper shut and tossed it on the table, giving up on reading it. "And how did I look at her, John?"

He smirked. "The way a boyfriend looks at his girlfriend."

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow. Was he really that transparent around her? Or was John just more clever than he brought on?

No, that wasn't it.

"Well I can assure you she's not my girlfriend, John. And if you could refrain from deducing inaccurate details about my personal business, it would be much appreciated."

He got up from his chair and walked swiftly to his room, slamming the door behind him. John smiled. His flat mate was acting like a teenager. A teenager with a serious crush.

* * *

Alexis was happier than she'd been in a long time. Throughout her entire workday, she was constantly smiling and being friendlier than usual to the patrons. A few of her fellow employees noticed this and even applauded it. Some of the more miserable ones merely shot her weird looks, but she didn't care. She felt so alive.

On her break, she wandered into the Sainsbury Wing and went to Room 63. She'd been in there giving a tour earlier that day, but wanted to get a chance to really look at her favorite painting. She gazed over it intently, looking as if she were contemplating each aspect of the painting. However, all she could think about was Sherlock. The kiss had been wonderful; better than all she'd heard or seen regarding a first kiss. There were definitely sparks, but they were so much more intense than she'd expected. And the way he gently touched her face as he did it made it that much sweeter. Her smile grew.

"I didn't realize this painting brought you so much joy."

The sudden voice startled her, causing her to gasp and sharply turn to her right where she was met with the Gallery curator, Dr. McPhee.

"Dr. McPhee, I didn't see you there," she said, exhaling slowly. He chuckled.

"I didn't want to startle you, though considering you were so lost in this painting, _or something else, _it didn't seem I had any other option."

"Yes, well, I was just…thinking," she replied, rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

"Of something rather pleasant, I presume?"

"Perhaps."

"Well according to a few of the employees, you've been thinking of this 'rather pleasant' thing all day."

"Has it been that obvious?"

"A bit."

"And are you faulting me for being happy, Dr. McPhee?" she joked. He raised his eyebrows, and she worried she went too far. Then he smirked, allowing her to breathe.

"Not at all, Alexis."

He smiled warmly at her, and she returned that smile.

"Whatever it is…I hope it lasts."

And with that, he turned around and walked back towards the center of the Gallery.

She watched as he left, turning back around to the painting as soon as he was out of sight. She gazed at it for another moment, then went to head out for lunch when her text alert went off.

She pulled out her phone and smiled.

**Are you available for dinner this evening? - SH**

Her smile grew even wider.

**Absolutely. **

** Excellent. Angelo's, Northumberland St., 7:00. – SH**

** I'll be there.**

She closed up her phone and headed out of the Gallery into Trafalgar Square, passing by the fountain and attempting to head to a nearby sandwich shop when she was stopped by the sound of someone calling her name.

"Alexis?"

She spun around and was met by a dark-haired woman wearing a black dress and texting on a Blackberry. She quickly sent a text and looked up at her, waiting for her to respond.

"Yes?"

"You have an hour break for lunch, don't you?"

Who was this woman and how did she know this? "Umm…yes. Sorry, who are you?"

The woman smirked. "Anthea. My boss would like to have a word over tea at Maison Bertaux. He's waiting for you there now."

"Who is your boss?"

Anthea smirked again. "A concerned party. That's all I'm free to say. Best not to keep him waiting."

Was this really happening? "Uh…Anthea, I don't know what's going on right now, but I'm really not interested in-"

She was interrupted by her text alert going off. She looked down at her phone and her eyes went wide.

**I have a tight schedule, Miss Gilmore. Please join me at once. – M**

"How did-"

Alexis looked up and Anthea was gone. She searched around hurriedly for the woman, but she was nowhere in sight. She wasn't entirely sure what had just happened was real, or that she was in fact safe at this point. Nevertheless, her curiosity got the best of her, and she decided to make the short trek to Maison Bertaux to investigate.

_**Alexis's flat (just ignore the parts that say it's a hotel and temporary stay and all that): **_

_**Since FanFiction won't let me put proper links, just go to ?apt=3757 & just add "www." in front of it :)**_


	5. Chapter 4

_**This is a direct continuation of Chapter 3! Same date and all that…**_

_**Also, I'm sorry that Fanfiction still screwed up the link to Alexis's flat in the last chapter! It really sucks, but just imagine a nice, modern looking place.**_

_**Amirizar2003: So glad you liked that bit! I'm glad I was really glad to capture the…"essence of Sherlock" if you will ;)**_

_**ForeverxAlways10: Your review made me so happy! I'll be updating as often as I can! I'm getting really into the story!**_

_**Topaz16: I was specifically going for the teenager thing haha! Glad you enjoyed that bit.**_

_**Dinogeek: I'm so glad you don't see her as a "Mary Sue"! She may have her moments of that but overall I do want her to seem strong. Thank you for the reassurance!**_

* * *

Alexis slowly approached Maison Bertaux and saw a man standing at the door. As she got closer, she could see that he was standing tall with his arms crossed in front of him, as if he were guarding it. The man soon noticed her and turned to his right, as if to open the door for her.

"Alexis Gilmore?" he asked, his voice deep and firm.

"Yes," she replied, hoping her nerves weren't apparent in her voice.

He opened the door for her and gestured for her to enter, not saying anything else as she slowly walked into the café. It was completely empty apart from a gentleman sitting in the far corner by the window.

"Ah, Miss Gilmore," he greeted, standing up from his seat. "Please, have a seat." He gestured toward the seat across from him, and she slowly walked down the aisle to the table and carefully took her seat, scanning the room as she did so.

"There's no one else in the building. I had it…rented out for our time here. I took the liberty of ordering PG Tips Decaf for you. I know it's your favorite."

She shot him a concerned glance. "Um…thank you. Just out of curiosity, though, how do you know it's my favorite?"

He chuckled. "I can understand your suspicions, Miss Gilmore. That's the reason I had us meet here in this quaint little café. After your unfortunate encounter three months ago, I wouldn't want to put you in any…traumatic situations."

Now she was alarmed. "How do you know about that. Who are you?"

"I assumed by assistant informed you. I'm a concerned party."

"Concerned about what?"

He smiled in such a way that unnerved Alexis to her very core. "You are in a relationship with Sherlock Holmes, are you not?"

"Why do you want to know that?"

"Because I worry about him. I like to know how he's getting on. He's never been in such a close relationship with any woman before and I assume he's quite overwhelmed by it. As are you, Miss Gilmore."

"What makes you say that?"

"I've known Sherlock Holmes a very long while. He's not one for friends and certainly not one for girlfriends, yet you've achieved both titles in such a short period of time. Clearly there is something about you that intrigues him. My money is on your intelligence and artistic insight, wouldn't you agree?"

"Who are you?" She glanced at her purse in the seat beside her, having half a mind to try and text Sherlock. However, with how creepily clever this man was, she knew she wasn't going to get away with it.

"Feel free to text Sherlock if you like, but he knows you aren't in any real danger with me. He knows my methods."

Damn, it's like this man was a mind reader!

"I understand, though, why you're so close to him. He makes you feel safe. Safe in a way you've not felt since your father was alive."

She straightened up and narrowed her eyes intensely at him. He'd struck a nerve. "What the hell do you know about my father?"

He smiled again. "On the physical level, the two of them share similar attributes, but that's not the reason you feel the comfort of true safety around him. It's the way he holds himself in the face of danger; seemingly without fear. Emotionless. Only intent on ensuring that you, Alexis, are safe. It's a common enough trait among fathers, but given that _your _father cared only for you and your sister…the details hardly matter. And Sherlock appears to care only for you, and it's more than endearing to you."

"Who the hell are you?"

The man guarding the door looked in through the door, but the other man waved him off. He sighed.

"I would ask that my concern go unmentioned to Sherlock, but that's clearly not going to happen. Now, do have a cup of tea, won't you?"

Alexis merely glared at him, then grabbed her purse and slowly rose from her chair. "Are we done here?" Her voice was low.

"What, without tea?"

"Are we done?" she asked more firmly.

He stared at her, then nodded in response. She then turned on her heel and strode out of the café, violently pushing the door open and causing it to shove aside the man guarding it. She walked swiftly back towards Trafalgar Square, fighting back tears as she went. Once there, she settled on the side of the fountain for the remainder of her break. Whatever had just happened was ridiculous and painful; however, it gave her the incentive to visit a place she'd not been in a while…

* * *

Sherlock walked out of his room at five o'clock dressed in his black suit and purple undershirt. John was now seated at the table in the living room eating dinner and he looked up when his flat mate came into view.

"Going out?" John asked.

"Yes, I'm off to Bart's and then dinner."

"Want some company?"

"I already have company for dinner, thanks."

John smiled. "Alexis, perhaps?"

Sherlock glared at him, ready to strike him with a nasty comeback when his text alert went off. He took his phone out of his pocket and sighed when he saw who it was from.

**I've met Alexis. Lovely girl. – M**

He rolled his eyes and exhaled sharply. He knew very well that it could not have gone over well; especially considering John's encounter the previous night.

**I doubt this was a chance meeting. – S**

** Just taking an interest, dear brother. – M**

** What did you say to her? – S**

** Nothing she doesn't know already. – M**

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and quickly grabbed his coat and scarf.

"Off to Bart's, then?" John asked.

"No, change of plan. I have to get to the cemetery." He wrapped his scarf around his neck and threw his coat on haphazardly, running out the side door. John merely sat there confused.

"Cemetery?"

* * *

_Daniel Worthington Gilmore_

_April 29, 1951 – August 5, 2004_

_Beloved Husband and Father_

"_To live in hearts left behind is to live forever"_

Alexis read the engraving on her father's tombstone silently to herself, tears now flowing down her face. That man, whoever the hell he was, was wrong. She liked Sherlock for himself; not because he reminded her of her father. That was such a ludicrous notion! Sure she could easily find similarities between the two of them, but you could put any two people next to each other and probably point out countless similarities!

Nonetheless, it got her thinking about her dad. She headed to the cemetery right after work, unable to get her mind off of anything else for the remainder of her workday. Needless to say, her unbelievable happiness from the first half of the day plummeted, and people noticed.

She hadn't been to the cemetery in at least two months. It used to be that she went once a week. There were three graves to visit; her dad, her mom, and her grandmother. All three were lined up next to each other in the family grave plots. Her eyes scanned back and forth across them all, and she thought of each one of them as they were in life. Sitting on her father's lap before her bedroom window as he photographed the sunset; standing next to her mother in the kitchen, struggling to see over the counter as she cooked dinner; and sitting in the park with her grandmother, talking for hours about anything. The memories were sweet, but so far gone. It made her think of the time just after her grandmother died; they were all gone then. No family left. Sure, her sister was still alive, but she was far away; and not just in miles.

She dropped to her knees in front of her father's grave and broke into a fit of sobs. This was the first time in a while she'd cried for her family. She needed the release; though painful at the time, it was a huge relief for her. She didn't care if anyone else was around; she just knelt there and cried. However, she was too caught up in the moment to realize that someone had approached her and knelt beside her. All of a sudden, she saw something white flash before her lowered face and jumped back. She wiped her eyes and focused in on the object and realized it was a tissue, and that it was being held by Sherlock's hand. He was knelt beside her, concern spread across his face.

"Sherlock? Oh god…"

She frantically wiped her face and stood up, straightening out her clothes. Sherlock stood up smoothly and offered her the tissue still. She took it, smiling sadly.

"I take it he mentioned your father," he began, his hand drifting to the small of her back.

She looked up at him with a confused expression and sniffled. "You-you knew about that?"

He sighed. "Yes. My brother likes to make an impression on those with a close connection to me, unfortunately."

Her eyes widened. "Your brother?"

"Yes, Mycroft." He said his brother's name with a bitter tone. "And you're not the first person he's interrogated. He spoke with John just last night."

"He's done this to John, too? Christ, you only met him two days ago!"

"He likes to take a close personal interest in my whereabouts. I've always hated it." He looked down at her, moving his hand so it was now encompassing her waist. "Are you alright?"

She quickly blew her nose and stuck the tissue in the pocket of her pea coat. "Yes, I'm fine. He didn't tell me anything I didn't already know; he just didn't have to be so heartless about it."

"Yes, well, that's a common gene among the Holmes family, I'm afraid."

She looked up at him sadly, turning to face him and placing her hand on his cheek. "You're not heartless."

He smiled down at her, wrapping his arm snug around her waist and lowering his head to softly kiss her. She moved her hand up to touch his cheek and smiled into the kiss. She gently pulled away and rested her head on his chest, taking comfort in his embrace. They stayed like this for a moment, then Sherlock felt the need to speak up.

"I'll find a way to get back at him for upsetting you so. It'll just take some time."

She smiled, pulling away to look up at him. "You don't have to. Just…how did he know so much about me?"

"He holds a minor position in the British government, which means he _is _the British government. He has access to endless amounts of information, and takes advantage of that power often."

"Great," she replied sarcastically. "But why couldn't he just tell me he was your brother and that he just wanted to meet me?"

"He's overly dramatic on top of having a dangerously large power complex. He's very eager to show off."

"The last bit sounds familiar." She looked up at him with a smirk, then laughed at his disgruntled expression. She quickly kissed him on the cheek to apologize, and he loosened up.

"You'll be alright, then?" he asked, still concerned.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Good." He lifted the cuff of his coat to check his watch. "It's 5:30 now. Too early for dinner?"

"No, that's fine. I just need a few minutes for my face to return to normal. I look awful when I cry and I don't want anyone else to see me like this. I didn't even want you to see me like this."

She went to pull her compact from her purse, but Sherlock grabbed both of her wrists and looked at her intensely. She dropped her purse as he pulled her closer.

"You've never looked awful and you don't look awful now. You're lovely."

And with that, Sherlock kissed Alexis once more.


	6. Chapter 5

_**Direct continuation of last chapter, blah blah blah…**_

_**I know it's a bit shorter, but this is pretty much one of those in between chapters before I get into bigger elements of the story. I hope it's not too crappy.**_

_**P.S. If you're curious as to what Alexis's friend Gwen looks like, look up actress Emily Blunt! **_

_**ForeverxAlways10: I'm glad I was able to keep him in character! Thank you!**_

* * *

"Sherlock!"

An older gentleman with a ponytail greeted Sherlock as he and Alexis walked into the restaurant at 6:00. He directed them toward a table by the front window and removed a "reserved" card from it.

"Thank you, Angelo." Sherlock helped Alexis out of her coat as Angelo placed two menus on their table.

"Everything on the menu is on the house for you and your lady friend, same as last night."

Alexis looked over at him. "Last night?"

"He means John," he replied coolly.

She furrowed her eyebrows, but temporarily shook it off and ordered her drink.

"On the house? That's really nice of him. How did you pull that off?"

"Three years ago, I was able to prove that at the time of a vicious triple murder of which Angelo was a suspect that he was in a completely different part of town housebreaking."

"Wow. I can see why he's so grateful."

"Hmm."

A minute later, Angelo came back with their drinks and they ordered their dinner. Afterwards, they sat in silence for a few moments. Sherlock was still thinking about all of the questions he had that morning, and he wasn't sure about how to go about asking them.

He cleared his throat, cuing Alexis to look up at him.

"So," he began, "how was work?" He mentally kicked himself for asking such a mundane question when more important things were on his mind. He was nervous; and he hated it.

"Very good, actually. At least for the first half of the day."

"Right."

He looked into her eyes, bright and full of hope, and felt himself becoming putty in her hands. "Look, Alexis-"

"I know, Sherlock. I know what you're going to say."

He looked at her with a confused expression. "You do?"

"Yes." She paused for a moment, scooting down the booth to sit closer to him. "That kiss last night…it was wonderful. But now, I think we're both wondering what happens next."

He took hold of her hand. "Yes. Alexis…I like you. I've always liked you as a friend, but as of late I've felt…something more. Something I've not really experienced before."

"Me too. And…I know it's not the most romantic thing to flat out say 'We're boyfriend and girlfriend' now, but…if you want to be…"

He moved in close so that his lips were mere inches from hers. "I believe I do."

She smiled just as he closed the gap between him and kissed her sweetly.

"Here we are."

They were interrupted by Angelo arriving with their food and immediately pulled away, both slightly embarrassed. He placed their plates in front of them and gave Sherlock a smug look.

"Getting around, aren't you, Sherlock? Just last night you were here with that blonde gentleman and now you're here with this lovely young lady."

Alexis's eyes widened, realizing what Angelo was implying. Sherlock exhaled.

"He wasn't my date, Angelo. He's merely my flat mate." His tone was steady, but Alexis could tell he was somewhat irritated.

"Ah, right." He walked away and she looked over at him with an amused expression.

"So he thinks that you and John are…?"

"Apparently."

She couldn't help herself and began giggling.

"You find this amusing, I take it?"

"No, it's just-" She struggled to stifle her giggles, all the while having Sherlock stare intently at her. "It's just so ridiculous. I'd never peg you or John as being gay!"

"Well I could see why people would assume the two of us being gay. Two straight men sharing a flat nowadays isn't exactly your standard living arrangement. However, it is an extremely closed-minded way of thinking and I'm extraordinarily pleased that you don't think that way."

"Well as the girlfriend of Sherlock Holmes, I don't think I can afford to be closed minded or stupid."

"I don't think you have to worry about that, my dear."

She smiled and dug in to her pasta.

* * *

February 25, 2011

Sherlock and Alexis had been dating for nearly a month, and things were going well. They still had their weekly tea at Maison Bertaux, plus many other dinners and outings in between. Occasionally Sherlock would have to cut their date short, even once or twice neglect to even show up, but Alexis never complained. She knew his work was important to him (and to those who depended on him solving it), and she quite enjoyed watching him work and seeing how happy he got when he solved the case. She'd even gotten a chance to get to know John, who ever remained curious as to how she was able to keep up with being the girlfriend of Sherlock Holmes.

Alexis had the day off and decided to spend it with Gwen. She'd been spending a lot of her time with Sherlock and didn't want her best friend to feel neglected; not that she minded at all. Gwen had been ecstatic when she found out Alexis was dating Sherlock. Not necessarily about her dating Sherlock himself, but that she was dating someone in general. She knew Alexis had been lonely, and she was glad she had a man in her life that made her feel happier than she'd been in a very long time.

They'd spent most of the day at Harrods and at 2:00 they'd settled into the Caffe Florian for tea and pastries. They were waiting for their tea to arrive and Gwen was staring at Alexis with a smirk on her face as she gazed around the café. Alexis looked over at her and cocked an eyebrow.

"You know, if you take a picture, it'll last longer," she teased.

"Don't tempt me, darling, you look lovely when you're admiring things."

Alexis smiled as Gwen leaned forward and propped her elbows up on the table, interlocking her fingers and resting her head on them. "You never did tell me what you and Sherlock did for Valentine's Day."

"You're right, I didn't."

"Spill it, girl."

"You know, I think you're going to be disappointed if I tell you."

"Try me."

Alexis sat up and leaned forward. "Well, I went to his flat around seven and was surprised to see that it had been _mostly _tidied up."

"Ooh, I'm turned on already."

"Shut up!" she said, giggling. "Anyway, the fireplace was lit and he had beef tenderloin with some kind of ginger brown butter already prepared on the table."

"My goodness, did he make it?"

"He tried to make me believe he did at first, then questioned why I didn't believe him. Eventually he broke down and told me he had it delivered from an Italian restaurant we go to regularly."

Gwen shot her a confused look. "I didn't know beef tenderloin was Italian."

"It's not. He just has a good connection with the owner and can get him to make anything for free."

"Oh, I see. What did you do after dinner?"  
"He played his violin for me. A few songs, all of which I like."

"Oh my god, that's so romantic!"

"I know! It was beautiful. I loved it."

"Ah…" Gwen smiled, waiting for her to continue. "And-and then what?"

"That's it."

"That's it? You did nothing else? You went home?"

"Yeah, so?"

"What did you wear?"

"My red dress."

"You have two red dresses. Was it the Dorothy Perkins one or the Coast one?"

"You know I don't memorize brand names."

"Fine, the one with the capped sleeves or the spaghetti straps?"

"Spaghetti straps."

"Hmm," she put her finger to her lips and thought, "I don't see why he wouldn't go for you in _that _dress…"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

She thought for a moment, then her eyes went wide when she realized what she meant. "Gwen!"

"Well come on, Alexis, it was Valentine's Day! It was clearly a romantic night, and it usually ends with two people-"

"Gwen, please!"

"Alexis, I'm your best friend, we can talk about this! Why didn't you?"  
"Because it's…Gwen, you know that Sherlock is my first boyfriend. We haven't even been dating a full month yet!"

"And what a great way to celebrate the one month anniversary, it would be."

She narrowed her eyes at Gwen, then leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Gwen, come on, you know me. I'm not just going to give myself away. I mean, I trust Sherlock, but I doubt he's even given it the slightest thought. I doubt he's even ready!"

"A man is always ready, Alexis."

She sighed once more. "Fine. But I'm not ready. Can you respect that and just move on?"

Gwen jokingly rolled her eyes and rested her hand on top of Alexis's. "Of course, love."

"Thank you."

The girls had their tea and pastries and were set to take a bus back to Alexis' flat. They were at the bus stop just outside Harrods when Alexis's phone rang. It was Sherlock.

"That's so weird. Sherlock almost never calls me."

"Well, that's my cue." Gwen began to walk off to the approaching double decker bus.

"Wait, I'm coming too!"

"No, you're going to wait for the next bus and talk to your boyfriend on this bench here until it comes. You know how much you hate people who talk loudly on the bus and, let's face it darling, you don't whisper." She winked at her and got on the bus. Alexis merely rolled her eyes and answered the phone.

"Hey."

_"Hello. Did you have a nice time at Harrods?"_

He never ceased to amaze her. "H-how do you know I was at Harrods?"

"Because I saw you there."

She whipped around and was met with Sherlock standing mere inches away from her. He chuckled when he saw how wide her eyes were.

"And to think I was impressed when all you did was cheat," she teased.

"I simply observed." He leaned down and kissed her. "Are you busy this evening?"

"No, why?"

"Chez Bruce. 8:00."

"Isn't that the place you forgot to show up to last time?"

"Indeed. I'd like to make it up to you. Will you come?"

"I'd love to."

"Excellent. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to Bart's. See you at 8." He quickly kissed her and dashed off to get a taxi. Their encounter had been brief and seemed like the typical way Sherlock would ask Alexis on one of their dates. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that something had been off about the whole thing. There was another evening where Sherlock was so caught up that he forgot to show up, and he didn't make up for that night. He merely apologized and she forgave him. He must have had a reason for wanting to go back to Chez Bruce. Something involving a case. Well, whatever it was, she just hoped it wouldn't be too dangerous.

But, with Sherlock, you could never really know.


	7. Chapter 6

_**This wasn't my favorite chapter to write. Sorry if it's not the best quality, but I did do my best. Also, forgive me if I don't say the names of the wines right! I'm not wine savvy and I merely went by what it said on the Chez Bruce wine menu!**_

_**TheGirlWhoImagined: Thank you very much! I never planned on having my OC be super sensitive about Sherlock & his cases & I'm glad I've achieved that.**_

_**Amirizar2003: I'm glad you like their interactions! **_

_**Topaz16: Yes I quite enjoy writing Gwen. I like that Alexis has a friend who is a little more "confident" than she is.**_

* * *

8:00 p.m.

Alexis arrived at Chez Bruce at exactly 8:00. She approached the hostess and gave her Sherlock's name, and the hostess took her towards the back of the restaurant where she saw Sherlock seated at a table near the window. Once he saw her, he smiled and stood up, walking around the table to pull out her chair for her.

"Hello," he greeted, kissing her. "You look lovely."

"Thank you." She lowered herself onto the chair and he pushed it in for her, then walked back around to his seat just as the waiter approached the table.

"Welcome to Chez Bruce. Our entrée special for tonight is a Plaice with creme fraiche and basil sauce, smoked salmon, pancakes and cucumber. Also, we have Jacques Picard Brut as our specialty wine for this evening. Are we ready to order or would you like a moment?"

"No, I think we're ready," Sherlock began. "She will have the special and we'll have a bottle of Laurent-Perrier, Brut, for the table."

"Will you be having an entrée this evening, sir?"

"No, thank you."

"Very well. The wine will be out shortly." He smiled at them and walked back towards the kitchen, Sherlock watching him intently the whole way. Alexis looked at him questioningly.

"Why aren't you eating?"

"Do I always have to eat when we go out to dinner?"

"Well…that's what usually happens when people go to a restaurant. Especially one as nice as this."

"Well, I'm not in the mood for food tonight. Just enjoy your Plaice." He smiled at her, and she returned it slightly.

About five minutes later, the waiter returned with their wine in a small basket and poured Sherlock and Alexis each a glass. Alexis noticed how closely Sherlock was examining the waiter as he did this, particularly observing his wrist as he poured him his wine. A look of confusion spread across her face as soon as the waiter left.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Why were you looking at his wrist like that?"

"Like what?"

"Intently, as if you were purposely examining him."

"I was simply observing. He had a scar on his wrist."

"Yeah? And how do you think it got there?"

"Not sure." He exhaled and took a big drink from his wine glass, nearly finishing the whole thing and slamming it on the table. "You really should drink this, Alexis. It's quite delicious."

"Right." She took a small sip of the wine and put the glass down, tapping it lightly as she scanned the room. She went to turn her head to quickly glance around the other side of the room, but Sherlock suddenly grabbed her wrist.

"Alexis!" His voice rose considerably, drawing the attention of a few other patrons.

"What?" she hissed, blushing as she saw a few others still staring.

He thought for a moment, glancing behind her. "I- It's not polite to stare."

She looked at him in disbelief. "Yes, nor is it polite to practically scream in the middle of a restaurant _or _to grab your girlfriend's wrist!" She pulled it out of his grasp and rubbed it. "Now what is going on with you?"

"Nothing. I'm perfectly normal. Is that a new dress?"

"Yes, actually, I got it- don't change the subject! Now, you've been acting strange since I got here. You keep glancing around the room like you're waiting for something or someone, you're obviously on edge, you clearly don't want me to turn around, and you're not even going to eat…"

She stopped mid-sentence and it finally hit her. Before Sherlock could even react, she turned around to look behind her. Sat at a table, just across the room and directly behind her and Sherlock, was John. He looked stunned, and Alexis merely waved at him before slowly turning around and narrowing her eyes at Sherlock.

"You're on a case, aren't you?"

He looked down at the table and cleared his throat. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't think it would be necessary."

"So you just lied to me?"

"I had to. If you had known the real reason we were here, you-"

"What? Would get angry? Well I'm not exactly happy right now!"

"Clearly."

"And how long did you think it would take me to notice John was here? I'm not that oblivious, Sherlock." She looked back at John, who was now staring at the wall sipping a glass of water.

"Alexis, your being angry isn't helping the situation."

"I have every right to be angry, Sherlock, you lied to me! Now tell me why we're really here."

He sighed and drank the last bit of his wine, then leaned forward. "There's a man by the name of Carter Allen who is wanted for murder in countless cities in England. He's murdered nine people in the last four years, and has been living under aliases and traveling to different parts of England searching for new victims. I've been tracking the situation for a few months now and I have reason to believe he's-"

"Your dinner, miss."

The waiter cheerfully greeted them and they both straightened up in their chairs. He put Alexis's plate down in front of her and she smiled at him politely.

"Thank you very much."

"You're quite welcome, miss." He turned to face Sherlock. "And are you sure there isn't anything I can get for you, sir?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you."

"Are you sure…Mr. Holmes?"

Alexis looked up at the waiter, wondering how he knew Sherlock's name. However, it didn't take her very long to piece everything together and her eyes went wide with fear.

"No, actually, I'm not that hungry right now…Mr. Allen." Sherlock narrowed his eyes and glared at Carter intently. Carter merely shot him a smug grin.

"Well, Sherlock Holmes in the flesh. Really is a pleasure." He turned and looked at Alexis, grinning at her in a way that made her skin crawl. "And this must be the girlfriend. Carter Allen. Pleasure." He held out his hand for her to shake, but she only stared at it before he knelt down by their table.

"So what now, Mr. Holmes? What's the big, elaborate plan you've got for taking me down? I've heard many extraordinary things about you, so I hope it's nothing too boring."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Mr. Allen."

"No?"

"Nope."

It wasn't Sherlock who said this. All of a sudden, John appeared behind Carter holding a gun to the back of his head. The other patrons noticed this and began to panic.

"Ladies and gentleman, this man is a murderer wanted in several parts of the country. I'm merely performing a citizen's arrest. Please don't panic."

"How the hell do you expect us not to panic?" one patron shouted.

"I'm calling the police!" screamed another.

Sherlock stood up and walked until he was inches away from Carter's face. "Bet you didn't see that coming."

Carter merely grinned and began to laugh. Alexis looked up at Sherlock with confusion, fear still glazed over her eyes. Sherlock glared at him.

"Actually, Mr. Holmes…"

What happened next happened in a flash. Carter spun around and punched John in the gut, causing him to double back and allow Carter to grab the gun from his hand and point it at Sherlock's head.

"…I did see that coming."

Sherlock stiffened, looking down at John's writhing body on the ground, then over to Alexis. "Well, that didn't go as planned."

"Sherlock!" Alexis gasped, her throat stiff from the threat of crying. She was terrified now, frozen in her seat and helpless to the situation.

"It's alright, Alexis."

"Yes, it's alright, love," Carter mocked. He kept the gun on Sherlock but turned to the other patrons in the room. "Alright! No one's going to move from their spot and no one is going to call the police! I'm just going to escort Mr. Holmes here out the door and we're going to have a little chat outside. We clear?"

A man reaching inside of his pocket caught his eye and he screamed, "I said are we clear?"

The man then pulled out a gun from inside his jacket and pointed it at him, and suddenly every other patron stood up and pointed their own guns at him.

"Clear," the man told him.

Carter's eyes went wide. "What the hell is this?"

"Oh, just every officer from areas all across the country who have been trying to track you down for the past four years," Sherlock told him. "I phoned them when I finally figured out where you were and we decided to meet for dinner; at your latest place of work."

"Sherlock, what is going on?"

"I'm merely solving a case, Alexis, can't you see that? Now, if you'll just lower that gun and allow one of these officers to take you into custody, it will make things go a lot easier."

Carter glared at him, then raised his eyebrows. "Hey hey, wait. I've still got a gun pointed at you. I'm still in control of the situation!"

"You could be right except for the fact that each one of these officers is a highly-trained marksman and that you, Mr. Allen, aren't exactly the best shot."

"Oh no?"

"No, you see none of your victims were killed by gun point, nor were they ever threatened with a gun. You wanted to be very creative with your killings and went for more detailed, elaborate crimes. This, however, means you have little to no experience with a gun and could never differentiate the weight of a loaded gun…and one that holds no bullets."

Carter looked down at the gun, dumbfounded. Gritting his teeth, he pulled the trigger and tried to shoot Sherlock. Alexis jumped, briefly forgetting it was an empty gun and sighing at the sound of the click the gun made. Carter screamed and continued to pull the trigger. Sherlock rolled his eyes and calmly took the gun from him, walking around him and handing it to a now standing John.

"There you are, John. Thank you for the use of your gun."

"Yeah, no problem," he replied, rubbing his stomach.

* * *

Alexis stood at the opposite end of the parking lot where Carter was being handcuffed and read his rites before being put into a police car. She looked on as Sherlock and John spoke to Lestrade who had arrived not soon after Carter was taken down by the other officers. She was absolutely stunned by what had just happened; at times, she didn't even think it _did _happen. She thought about the very end where Sherlock informed Carter that the gun wasn't loaded. Up until that point, she thought he'd been in danger. She thought he would have been shot. However, Sherlock outwitted another criminal and solved the case. As she went over the night in her head over and over again, she realized that she was feeling something that she hadn't felt with Sherlock before. She was angry with him.

"Is she alright over there?" Lestrade asked Sherlock, pointing to Alexis.

"Of course she's fine. I had everything under control, she knows that now."

"Yeah, but she doesn't look too good. Is she angry?"

"Angry?"

"Well, Sherlock, you did make her think that you were in serious danger for a while there," John chimed in. "Plus you lied to her about why you brought her here in the first place. She's your girlfriend, Sherlock, it's not exactly wise to lie to her about these things."

"Wait. Did you say girlfriend?" Lestrade asked, smiling slightly.

"Nevermind," Sherlock said, annoyed.

"Sherlock Holmes has a girlfriend. Never thought I'd see the day," he said, now amused.

"It's none of your concern, Lestrade. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go speak with my…Alexis."

John and Lestrade grinned at one another as Sherlock made his way over to Alexis.

"Are you alright?" he asked, placing a hand on her arm.

"Am I alright? Hmm…" She moved from her place in front of Sherlock and began to walk around him, placing a curled finger to her chin. "Well, my boyfriend lied to me about why he took me to dinner in the first place; something I wasn't initially too thrilled with. Then, our waiter turned out to be a mass murdered wanted all around the country; that wasn't too pleasant. Oh, and finally, this murderer held my boyfriend at gun point with what I thought was a loaded gun but turned out to be completely empty! He was in no danger, and I am happy about that! Why could I possibly not be alright?"

"Your sarcasm doesn't amuse me," he said.

"Sherlock, I can get over the fact that you lied about being on a case. That much I can accept. But when you…" She trailed off, looking up at the sky to try and hold back newly forming tears.

"When I what?" he pressed.

She looked at him with sad eyes. "When I thought you could die…I was terrified. I felt…helpless. I didn't know what to do. My stupid body wouldn't let me move through the entire thing. I couldn't have done anything to help you if I wanted to."

Sherlock went to say something, but she held up her hand.

"But it's fine now. You were never in any real danger and you've caught a murderer. Second one in two months. Very good."

She reached up and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "I should be getting home. I'll go hail a cab." She started to walk away.

"I'll share a cab with you," Sherlock told her, but she shook her head.

"No, no, it's fine. You'll probably need to sort out a few more things here, and you should go home with John anyway. Good night."

She quickly walked off and caught a cab as soon as she hit the sidewalk. Sherlock watched helplessly as she drove away, not able to take his eyes off the cab until it was out of sight. He stood there, unable to move as he felt a weird sensation wash over his body. The way Alexis looked at him as she confessed her fears about his safety stuck in his mind and went straight to his heart. He felt…guilty.

"Lestrade says we can head home for the night but wants to question us more tomorrow," John told Sherlock as he approached him. Sherlock didn't respond as he just stared off into the night deep in thought.

"Shall we get a cab then?" John asked.

Still no response.

"Sherlock?"

He turned his head and looked at John with a confused look, then registered what he'd just said and headed for the road.

"Sherlock, you okay?" John had to jog after him as Sherlock's strides were swift and long.

"Fine. Good. Back to the flat, shall we? Taxi!"

The cab approached and Sherlock opened the door and jumped in before it even made a full and complete stop. John had to tell the cabbie their address, as Sherlock didn't say a word the entire ride home; or the rest of the night.


	8. Chapter 7

_**TheGirlWhoImagined & Amirizar2003: That was probably my favorite part of that whole scene, next to the part where Sherlock points out that the gun was empty. **_

* * *

10:00 p.m.

Alexis lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling as she struggled to fall asleep. She was exhausted, but the stress of her date with Sherlock that night kept her awake and going over every detail. Did she overreact? Did she let her sensitivity get the best of her? No, Sherlock lied and pretended to be in danger, so her reaction was perfectly alright.

Yet one thing that stood out in her mind was the way Sherlock looked as she ripped into him in the parking lot. He looked…guilty. She'd never seen him look like that before, and he'd probably never felt that way many times in his life.

Sherlock was definitely at fault for lying; there was no doubt about that. But, she still felt guilty. With Sherlock, she could let a lot of things go. He wasn't your typical guy; hell, he wasn't your typical human being. However, all of his idiosyncrasies and imperfections made her like him all the more. He was a faulted man, but a good man.

Thinking about this, she groaned and stuffed her face into the pillow. She would force herself to fall asleep and worry about what to do in the morning.

* * *

February 26, 2011

Sherlock got no sleep the previous night. It didn't physically tire him; he was used to lack of sleep for long periods of time. He was mentally drained, however. He paced back and forth in the living room, thinking about every detail of the previous night. Not as much of the elements surrounding Carter Allen, but of Alexis.

The fact that he lied about not being on a case was something which he could handle, but he couldn't stop thinking about the way she looked in the parking lot. She was practically on the verge of tears as she confessed her fears about him being in danger; about how he could have been killed. There was no way she could know that the gun was empty since she wasn't in on the plan. And what made it worse was her sensitivity regarding death; she'd been through so much of it in her life.

Thinking about this made Sherlock's guilt grow, and he hated it. He knew he had to do something. Make it better somehow. It couldn't be just a simple apology this time, though. He had to make it up to her for real.

* * *

8:00 p.m.

"Alright, everybody, good class. See you all next week."

The instructor of the figure drawing class bid everyone farewell and they all filed out of the room and out of the Gallery. Alexis and another person in the class, Jesse, were the only ones who remained. They were cleaning up the supplies so the Gallery would be clean for the next day.

"Good class," Jesse said, lifting up two easels and stacking them along with the others against the wall. He set them down and wiped his brow.

"Yeah, everyone's definitely getting much better. And we really lucked out with finding Maria. Not many other people would stand naked on a pedestal and allow amateurs to draw her with what we're paying her."

He chuckled. "Yeah, she's great. You're doing really well, too. Helping out the others, I mean. That one girl would've totally butchered her drawing if you hadn't shown her what to do."

She smiled. "Thanks."

"Sure."

"Oh, so, how's your mom doing? Feeling any better?"

"Yeah. That flu took a lot out of her but I think it's almost through. That California air is doing her some good."

"Good, I'm glad."

Jesse was an American as well. He grew up in California and came to London the previous year for art studies. He was the same age as Alexis, and he grew really close to her since he arrived; probably because she was the only other American accent he'd heard. He was a nice and genuine guy, but Alexis still liked to keep a safe distance between the two of them. Mostly because he had a crush on her; he made that clear when he asked her out three times within a week.

"Do you want me to take your easel into the storage room with the others?" he asked.

"Oh, no thanks. I'm going to stick around for a while. They're giving me time here to do some artwork in exchange for helping out with the class."

"Oh, cool. Well then, I'll see you next week. I'll be the one up on the pedestal."

Alexis nearly dropped her box of pencils. "I'm sorry, you'll be where?"

"Oh right, I didn't tell you. I volunteered to be the next model." He smiled at her shocked expression. "You look surprised."

"I, uh, no, I just didn't know you modeled."

"Yeah, on occasion. It's a little extra money, you know?"

"Sure."

He smiled. "Anyway, I heard you're attached now."

"Attached?"

"Dating."

"Oh, right! Yeah! For almost a month now, actually."

"Sherlock Holmes, right? The detective?"

"Consulting detective," she corrected.

"Well, that's great. I hope you're happy with him."

She smiled slightly, letting it fade as she remembered the previous night. "I am."

He noted her expression, then nodded slightly. "Great. Well, see you next week."

"Bye."

She watched as he walked out of the room, then flipped over to a new sheet on her pad. She exhaled, thinking about Jesse modeling nude for the class. He had a really good body; muscles that weren't too bulky, dark skin, not much body hair. As soon as she realized she was thinking about it, she blushed dark red and shot up from her chair. She hated to be thinking about things like that, especially when she had Sherlock.

She took off her tan cardigan and went to throw it on her chair, but missed it and it caught on a small cup of red paint on the easel and fell to the floor.

"Shit!"

She fell to her knees and immediately tried to rub the paint out of the cardigan with a rag, but it was no use. It would dry quickly and stain. She tossed the garment to the other side of the room with a huff and sank into her chair, defeated.

Ten minutes later, she had calmed and was halfway done with a pencil sketch. It was of a mother and her young daughter walking in a park by a pond. Her and her mom long ago. Normally, whenever she drew or painted things that reminded her of her mother, she would get extremely emotional. However, that night, with that drawing, she was perfectly alright. In fact, it made her feel happy. She smiled as she drew in the details of her mother's face, remembering exactly what she looked like. Auburn hair, blue eyes, flawless alabaster skin. Thinking about it made her wonder where she and her sister got all of their freckles; her dad didn't have that many.

Suddenly, she heard the creak of the door open and she rose from her chair, carefully putting down the pencil. The sound of steady footsteps filled the room, and when she didn't hear a voice, she became nervous.

"Is that you, Andrew?"

"Not quite."

The familiar voice automatically relaxed her and she smiled as he entered the room.

"Hello," Sherlock greeted, holding out his hand which held a bouquet of blue orchids. An expression of admiration fell over Alexis's face and she rushed over to him, never taking her eyes off the orchids.

"This is my favorite flower. How did you get this?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.

"A gentleman never reveals his secrets," he replied, smirking.

She lowered her eyes and placed her hands on his chest. "Sherlock, I'm-"

"No."

"What?"

"You were going to apologize. You don't have to. I'm the one who has to apologize."

"Well, while I can't argue with that last bit, I need to apologize as well. I think I may have overreacted a bit in the parking lot."

"No, you didn't. I should have realized sooner that making you think I was in grave danger would frighten you. I never intended to upset you, I just didn't want to let you in on the case because I was afraid you would ruin it by panicking once you realized the waiter was a serial killer."

She looked at him with an amused expression, then he cleared his throat.

"Actually, I could have worded that better. What I mean is-"

She cut him off by grabbing the back of his head and pulling him down for a kiss. She held his face with her hands and allowed her lips to mingle with his for a moment, then slowly pulled away and smiled sweetly at him.

"Apology accepted."

He was speechless and simply smiled back at her. She turned around and sat back at her easel, leaving Sherlock to contemplate what had just happened. He took off his coat and placed it on the back of her chair, leaning over her shoulder as she continued her drawing.

"You and your mother," he observed.

"Yes."

"It's very good."

She turned her head and looked back at him. "Thank you." She pecked him lightly on the lips before continuing. "You can pull up a chair if you want. There's one in that closet over there."

He obliged and fetched the chair, placing it close to hers and continuing to admire her artwork once he sat. However, as she continued to draw, he noticed the gooseflesh that was forming on her arms and started to remove his blazer.

"You're cold."

"I'm fine."

"You're only in a tank top and they've just turned off the heat. You're wearing this."

"Alright."

He helped her into the blazer, and she kissed his cheek with gratitude. She turned around and went back to her drawing. "Now you can tell me how you got in."

"One of the security guards owes me a favor. Tough to convince at first, but he allowed me in once I told him I was having…girlfriend troubles. He escorted me personally."

She giggled. "Must have been Charles. He's very sympathetic when it comes to that stuff."

"That and the fact that I stopped him from being murdered in an alleyway last year."

Her eyes widened and she turned her head. "Really?"

"Yes. He was drunk. No way of defending himself. I was able to catch the man who assaulted him a week later and he's felt indebted to me ever since. Tonight I cashed in the favor."

"I'm glad you did."

He smiled. "I still want to make it up to you."

"It's okay, you don't-"

"I do."

He looked intensely into her eyes, getting his point across. She exhaled and stared at her drawing, thinking for a moment.

"Anything you want, you can have."

"Anything?"

"Anything reasonable."

She cocked an eyebrow. He sighed.

"Okay, anything at all."

She smiled. She thought for a moment about what she could ask for. Not to be greedy, but to make him happy. She looked more closely at the drawing, particularly at her mother, and then it hit her.

"I suppose there is something you can do."

* * *

"Are you almost done?"

Sherlock was stood on the pedestal, one arm folded across his chest while the other was straight up with his finger touching his chin. This was the third pose Alexis had him make whilst she drew him, being sure to take her time so she could torture him as much as possible. Though, to be honest, she got more enjoyment in paying close attention to every feature of his body.

"Just one more minute and you can come down."

He rolled his eyes and froze in his spot once more. She'd worked her way down from the top, and was now finishing up on the minor details of his shoes. She made the final touch with a long, exaggerated swipe and tapped the paper with the pencil. This signaled her completion to Sherlock and he jumped down.

"You're lucky I have a soft spot for you. I don't know how I lasted that long."

"Oh relax, it didn't take that long."

"Forty-three minutes for all three drawings, and not once was I allowed to move."

"And yet you have the energy of a ten year old."

"Only from the relief of being able to move my legs."

She giggled and went to close the pad, only to have Sherlock slide his hand between the pages.

"I was planning on closing that, Sherlock."

"Not without me seeing what I've waited forty-three minutes for."

"It's part of the punishment."

"Not on my watch."

She sighed and stepped away from the pad, allowing him to lift it up and stare at the first drawing. He gazed at it with admiration, and Alexis felt a blush rising to her cheeks.

"What do you think?"

"I think it's…incredibly accurate. Excellent work."

"You think so?"

"It's obvious. You've paid extremely close attention to every detail. No wonder it took as long as it did."

"Yes, well…" Alexis knew what she was going to say, but was too embarrassed to say it. Sherlock looked at her with wondering eyes.

"Well?"

She flipped through the pages until she found the third drawing. "Well, I wanted to make sure I did you justice. I take pride in everything I create, but this…this is something I've wanted to do for a long time."

"You've-you've wanted to draw me?"

She smiled nervously. "Speaking as an artist and fully understanding the contours and proportions of the human body…I can say that you have an ideal form. You're tall, but not too tall. You're lean, not too skinny or too bulky. Your pale skin and dark hair are very unique and I can appreciate unique attributes on a person. Going along with that, your cheekbones are quite distinctive. I've never seen any as high up on a person's face as yours."

"And that's a good thing, I take it?"

She smiled, her hand drifting to his face. "Yes. And putting all your features together, one might say you're…"

He brought his face close to hers. "What?"

"Perfect."

"I'm far from perfect."

"Not to me."

He closed the small gap between them and kissed her passionately. He wrapped his arms around her torso and she threaded her hands through his curly hair. After a moment, they broke the kiss for a breath and looked into each other's eyes. Sherlock felt himself overcome with desire and reconnected their lips, only this time he gently parted her lips with his tongue and slid it into her mouth. Alexis moaned at this new sensation, deepening the kiss as she repeated his action. They remained like this for a while before Alexis had to pull away for another breath, nearly panting as he rested his forehead against hers. Sherlock looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't apologize," Alexis said between breaths. "That was nice."

"I don't suppose I could disagree with that."

"For once, I just hope the cameras weren't working in here." She gestured up towards the camera in the corner of the room, and he smiled.

"Don't worry. Charles owed me a big favor."

She laughed and kissed him again.


	9. Chapter 8

_**Alright! Now we're going to get into the good stuff! **_

_**Sorry if the last chapter wasn't the best. Again, not my favorite chapter to write, but it was necessary. & I hope I didn't make Sherlock TOO out of character; he's different with Alexis, but not too much so. Anyway, on with 'The Blind Banker'!**_

_**Oh P.S. Happy 36**__**th**__** Benedict Cumberbatch (I started writing this on his actual birthday but I'm not sure if it'll be up today so just go with it)!**_

* * *

March 23, 2011

For the next month, things were good for Alexis and Sherlock. Nothing too interesting or over the top happened, just a few random, minor cases that Sherlock was able to solve in a snap. Alexis could tell that he needed something big, though. Something to really make him think.

Luckily, he would receive such an offer on the morning of March 23. Alexis took a cab to his flat in the morning just to see if he'd like to have brunch. It was her day off; one of many more she'd been able to snag recently due to some new recruits at the Gallery. She was approaching his door when she saw something very odd a few yards away. A man dressed in Arabian-type clothing stumbled out of the alleyway that led to the back of Sherlock's flat. He was obviously confused, and appeared to be looking around for something. He then looked up at Sherlock's window and started shouting angrily in Arabic, prompting Alexis to knock frantically on the door.

Mrs. Hudson let her in quickly and she padded up to his flat to find him sitting at the table in front of a laptop; John's laptop.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Morning," he replied, pleasantly surprised to see her. She walked over to him and kissed him as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"I just wanted to see if you want brunch, but it looks like you're in the middle of something," she said, looking at the computer screen to find an e-mail from someone asking him to investigate a break-in.

"The Shad Sanderson Bank's had a break-in of some kind. I went to college with the man who's asking me to take a look around the place. Sebastian Web."

"He's a banker now, I take it?"

"Yes."

She glanced out the window, trying to see if the man she saw before was still there.

"I saw something kind of odd as I was coming into your flat, actually," she said, looking around the street.

"You mean the gentleman who attacked me with a sword because I wouldn't take his case? Didn't think he'd come 'round so quickly."

"Wait, he what?"

"Don't worry, I knocked him out cold. His sword's under my chair. I didn't think he'd be needing it anymore."

"Jeez, let's just hope he doesn't want it back."

About five minutes later, Alexis was sitting in Sherlock's whilst he stared at the computer screen, contemplating whether or not to take the case. She was about to bring up the topic of the brunch once more when John walked up the stairs with multiple bags of groceries.

"Don't worry about me, I can manage," he greeted, walking through the side door into the kitchen. "Oh, hello Alexis."

"Hi John. Let me help you with those."

They started to put the cold groceries in the refrigerator when John suddenly looked up at Sherlock with disbelief. "Is that my computer?"

"Of course," he replied. "Mine was in the bedroom."

"What, and you couldn't be bothered to get up? It's password protected!"

"In a matter of speaking. Took me less than a minute to guess yours. Not exactly Fort Knox."

John strode over and grabbed the laptop, slamming it shut. "Right, Thank you." He walked over to his chair and sat down, grabbing a pile of mail on the table and shuffling through it. Alexis giggled to herself at their behavior.

"Oh, Alexis, I'm sorry. Let me just-"

She put her hand up. "I've got it, John. Just relax."

He smiled with gratitude, but it fell as soon as he saw an overdue bill. "I need to get a job."

"Oh, dull," Sherlock retorted, folding his hands in front of him and staring at the wall. He was deep in thought about the e-mail.

John looked around the room uncomfortably, then leaned forward and looked at Sherlock. "Listen, if you'd be able to lend me some…Sherlock, you listening?"

Sherlock perked up immediately. "I need to go to the bank."

Alexis smiled as he shot from the chair and headed towards the stairs, grabbing his coat and scarf on the way. John looked at her with confusion, but they both got the hint and followed him out to the street.

About fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the Shad Sanderson Bank. Sherlock was deep in concentration as he, Alexis, and John entered the bank.

"Yes, when you said we were going to the bank…" John began as they got onto the escalator, Sherlock observing everything he saw along the way.

"You thought the local ATM, right?" Alexis responded, earning a smirk from John. They approached a long desk and Sherlock gave one of the receptionists his name. She directed them to go to the fortieth floor, and once there a secretary led them into a decent sized office that overlooked half of London.

"Sherlock Holmes."

A man who looked to be about Sherlock's age walked into the room a minute later, a big smile on his face.

"Sebastian," Sherlock greeted, holding out his hand which Sebastian grabbed and shook.

"How are you, buddy? How long has it been - eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?"

"This is my friend, John Watson."

"Friend?"

"Colleague," John quickly shot at him.

Sebastian looked at them both and smirked. "Right."

"And this is my girlfriend, Alexis Gilmore." Sherlock put his hand to the small of her back as he said this.

"Girlfriend?" Sebastian's open-mouthed smirk grew bigger. "Sherlock Holmes with a girlfriend. Never thought I'd see the day. Pleasure, miss." He walked around his desk, gesturing to the chairs. "Grab a pew. Do you need anything, coffee, water?"

Sherlock shook his head no, Alexis and John following suit.

"We're all set here, thanks," Sebastian told his secretary, and she walked out of the room.

"So, you're doing well," Sherlock observed. "Been abroad a lot."

"Well, some," Sebastian replied, leaning back in his chair."

"Flying all the way around the world twice in a month?"

He chuckled, pointing at him. "Right, you're doing that thing." He looked over at John and Alexis, sat to Sherlock's right. "We were at uni together, and this guy here had a trick he used to do."

"It's not a trick."

"He could look at you and tell you your whole life story."

"Yes, I've seen him do it," John replied.

"Likewise," Alexis added, smiling slightly in Sherlock's direction.

"Put the wind up everybody, we hated it. We'd come down to breakfast in the formal hall, and this freak would know you'd been shagging the previous night."

Alexis winced at the word "freak", looking over at Sherlock who rolled his eyes.

"I simply observed."

"Go on, then, enlighten me. Two trips around the world in a month. You're quite right. But how can you tell?"

Sherlock went to speak, but Sebastian cut him off.

"Are you going to tell me there's a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan?"

"No-"

"Or is it the mud on my shoes?" He had on a smug grin.

Sherlock looked at him with a straight face. "I was just chatting with your secretary outside. She told me."

Alexis and John exchanged a look of "no he didn't" and Sebastian started to laugh. He clapped his hands once and then his demeanor became serious.

"Now I'm glad you could make it over. We've had a break-in. Allow me to show you."

He led them from the room and took them across the floor to a different office.

"Sir William's office. The banks former chairman. The room's been left here as a sort of memorial."

"What did they steal?" John asked.

"Nothing," he told him. "Just left a little message."

"What kind of message?" Alexis asked.

"Well, why don't you see for yourself?"

They entered the room to find two sets of graffiti on the back wall. There was a yellow stripe across the eyes of Sir William Shad's portrait, and just to the side of it was a symbol that looked like a deformed number eight with a small line above it. Sherlock observed it intently for about thirty seconds before they returned to Sebastian's office to look at the security footage.

"Sixty seconds apart," Sebastian said, pressing a key to compare two photos taken at 11:33 and 11:34 p.m. the previous night. "So, someone came in here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around, and left within a minute."

"How many ways into that office?" Sherlock asked, looking at the computer screen.

"Well, that's where this gets really interesting."

They went down to the desk on the first floor and Sebastian opened a layout of the fortieth floor on one of the empty monitors.

"Every door that opens in this bank gets locked right here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet."

"That door didn't open last night?" Sherlock asked.

"There's a hole in our security. Find it and we'll pay you, five figures." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a check. "Here's an advance. Tell me how he got in. There's a bigger one on its way."

"I don't need an incentive, Sebastian."

Sherlock practically bit off the part with his name and walked off, leaving Sebastian holding the check in front of him. John cleared his throat.

"He's, er, kidding you, obviously. Shall I look after that for him?"

Sebastian handed him the check, and a look of relief spread over John's face when he looked at it. Alexis peaked over his shoulder and raised her eyebrows.

"$5000. That's very generous."

"Very," John confirmed.

"Well, let's just hope he earns it," Sebastian said, and with that he walked away. John and Alexis realized they should probably get out from behind the desk and headed back up to the fortieth floor.

"So, I guess we just let Sherlock do his thing until he decides to leave at a moment's notice?" John asked, pressing the "Up" button on the elevator.

"Not much else we can do. He's in his zone, and there's no getting him out of it."

" 'His zone.' That's a new word for it." They stepped onto the elevator and John pressed the button that said '40.' "So, that Sebastian seems pretty…confident, eh?"

"Typical banker. Confident, seemingly friendly, completely full of himself."

"Wow. I didn't think you were one to judge so quickly."

"It's not as much judgment as it is observation. Any idiot could see through someone like that. I'm sure you saw it right away."

"Ah, so I'm just another idiot then?"

Alexis chuckled, pushing his arm. They immediately straightened up and moved to the back of the elevator as it stopped on the tenth floor and three men got on. This became a recurring pattern for about every other floor, and by the time they were at the fortieth floor, Sherlock was finished with whatever he was doing and directed them to go back to the elevator. They groaned but complied.

"So, two trips around the world this month," John stated once they finally made it back to the first floor. "You didn't ask his secretary, you said that just to irritate him."

"How did you know?" Alexis asked.

Sherlock smiled. "Did you see his watch?"

"His watch?" John asked.

"The time was right, but the date was wrong. It said two days ago. Crossed the date line twice and he didn't alter it."

"Within a month? How'd you get that?"

"New Breitling. Only came out this February."

"Amazing," Alexis said. Sherlock took her arm as they stepped off the escalator.

"Okay, so do you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer?"

"Got everything I need to know already, thanks. That graffiti was a message. Someone working on the trading floors. We find the intended recipient and…"

"…They'll lead us to the person who sent it," John finished.

"Obvious."

"But there's so many people up there, Sherlock. Almost three-hundred. How do you know who it was meant for?" Alexis asked.

"Pillars."

"What?"

"Pillars in the screens. Very few places you could see that graffiti from. That narrows the field considerably. And, of course, the message was left at 11:34 last night. That tells us a lot."

"Does it?" John asked.

"Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for somebody who came in at midnight." He pulled out a slip of paper from his coat pocket that read "Edward Van Coon". Most likely a label for his office.

"Not many Van Coons in the phone book."

Sherlock called for a taxi and had it go Van Coon's apartment building about twenty minutes away. Once there, he rang the bell to Van Coon's apartment twice. No answer either time.

"So what do we do now? Sit here and wait for him to come back?" John asked.

"Just moved in."

"What?" Alexis asked, looking at the button.

"Floor above, new label."

"Could have just replaced it," John remarked.

Sherlock pressed the button. "No one ever does that."

"True," Alexis agreed.

Suddenly, a woman's voice came over the intercom. _"Hello?"_

Sherlock smiled, putting on a nice-guy façade. "Um, hi, I live in the flat just below you. I don't think we've met."

_"No, well, er, I've just moved in."_

"Actually, I've just locked my keys in my flat." Sherlock bit his lip, and Alexis couldn't help but smile at that.

_"Do you want me to buzz you in?" _Her tone was now more friendly and helpful.

"Yeah, and can I use your balcony?"

_"What?"_

John and Alexis exchanged looks of confusion.

"Well, you see, I left the door to my balcony unlocked, and I really don't feel like dealing with the superintendent in asking for another key. If I could just pop onto my balcony from yours, I could get into my flat no problem."

There was a long pause. _"Er, alright, I suppose if you'd prefer to do that, that would be alright."_

"Thank you very much."

The door clicked open and they filed inside.

"You two, go to the sixth floor and wait outside Van Coon's flat. I'll let you in."

He immediately walked over to the stairwell and quickly made his way to the seventh floor. Alexis and John merely looked at each other and got on the elevator.

"So, if that were you and you just heard a strange man ask to jump from your balcony onto his own, what would you do?" John asked.

Alexis smiled. "Well knowing it was Sherlock, I'd invite him for a drink afterward."

He rolled his eyes. "And if it were anyone but?"

"Oh, I'd call the cops."

They both chuckled and soon got off the elevator. They walked down the hall to Van Coon's flat and rang the bell. No answer. John rang it twice more and started to become impatient.

"Sherlock, you okay? Yeah, anytime you feel like letting us in!"

There was still no answer, so Alexis pressed her ear up to the door and concentrated.

"I think I hear him walking around in there. So much for letting us in."

They suddenly heard a loud bang come from inside the flat, and Alexis began frantically knocking.

"Sherlock, what was that? Is everything alright?"

"Sherlock, for God's sake! Let us in!"

A minute later, the door slowly opened, and Sherlock stood there as calm as can be. This made what he was about to say even more shocking to John and Alexis.

"Eddie Van Coon is dead."


	10. Chapter 9

_**Amirizar2003: My plan was to get her more involved in the cases as time went on. Glad you like it!**_

* * *

Alexis stood back against the wall of Eddie Van Coon's bedroom as Sherlock examined his lifeless body lying on the bed. It appeared that he'd shot himself in the head, and she wasn't too keen on looking at the bullet hole in his temple.

"Do you think he'd lost a lot of money?" John asked as he stood in the middle of the room. "Suicide is pretty common among city boys."

"We don't know that it was suicide," Sherlock replied, walking over to Van Coon's suitcase.

"Come on. The door was locked from the inside, you had to climb down the balcony."

Sherlock ignored him and continued. "Been away three days judging by the laundry." He stood up and stared at John, who was still looking at Van Coon's body. "Look at the case, there was something tightly packed inside."

"Thanks, I'll take your word for it."

"Problem?"

John looked at him. "Yeah, I'm not desperate to root around some bloke's dirty underwear."

Alexis walked over to the suitcase and knelt down. "It does look like there was something in there. All his clothes are shoved off to the side of the case and there's an indent in the middle of the pile."

Sherlock smirked at her. "At least someone has a good eye."

He walked back over to the body and continued to examine it. "Thos symbols at the bank, the graffiti, why were they put there?"

"Some sort of code?" John answered.

"Obviously, but why were they painted? Want to communicate, why not use e-mail?"

"Well, maybe he wasn't answering."

"Oh good, you follow."

"No."

"What kind of a message would everyone try to avoid?"

John was silent, but Alexis slowly walked toward them. Things were starting to click in her head.

Sherlock continued. "What about this morning? Those letters you were looking at?"

"Bills?"

Sherlock stuck his hand in Van Coon's mouth and slowly pulled out something black.

"A threat?" Alexis chimed in.

Sherlock looked at her and smiled. "Yes. He was being threatened."

He put the object into an evidence bag, and a gentleman wearing a suit and an overcoat walked into the bedroom. He was giving orders to the forensics team, so Alexis figured he had some authority over the case.

"Ah, Sergeant, we haven't met," Sherlock greeted, pulling off the rubber glove and holding out his hand for the man to shake.

"Yeah, I know who you are, and I would prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence." His tone was harsh. This guy was going to be fun to work with.

Sherlock immediately gave up on trying to be friendly and handed the man the evidence bag. "I phoned Lestrade. Is he on his way?"

"He's busy. I'm in charge. And it's not Sergeant, it's Detective Inspector. Dimmock."

Dimmock stalked out of the room, and Sherlock looked back at John and Alexis with disbelief. Alexis smiled sadly and they followed Dimmock into the living room.

"We're obviously looking at a suicide," he told a member of forensics, handing him the evidence bag Sherlock gave him.

"It does seem the only explanation off all the facts," John agreed.

Alexis bit her lip. Part of her wanted to backhand John, but she would just settle for Sherlock proving them both wrong.

"Wrong, it's one _possible_ explanation of _some _of the facts. You have a solution you like, but you're choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it."

"Like?" Dimmock asked.

"The wound is on the right side of his head. Van Coon is left-handed." Sherlock formed his left hand into a gun and demonstrated trying to shoot the right side of his head in an over-exaggerated way. "Requires quite a bit of contortion."

"Left-handed?" Dimmock questioned, starting to tense up.

"Oh, I'm amazed you didn't notice. All you have to do is look around this flat." He began pointing around the room. "Coffee table on the left-hand side, coffee mug handle pointing to the left. Power sockets, habitually used the ones on the left. Pen and paper on the left-hand side of the phone. Picked it up with his right, took down messages with his left. Do you want me to go on?"

"No, I think you've covered it," John told him.

"Oh, I might as well. I'm always at the bottom of the list. There's a knife on the breadboard with butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left. It's highly unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of his head. Conclusion: someone broke in here and murdered him. Only explanation of _all_ of the facts."

Alexis smiled. She knew he'd get it.

"But the gun-?" Dimmock began, having Sherlock cut him off.

"He was waiting for the killer. He'd been threatened." He started to put on his coat and scarf.

"What?" Dimmock asked.

"Today at the bank. Sort of a warning," John told him.

"He fired a shot when his attacker came in," Sherlock continued.

"And the bullet?" Dimmock asked.

"Went through the open window."

"Oh, come on. What are the chances of that?"

"Wait until you get the ballistics report. The bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his own gun, I guarantee it."

"But if the door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in?"

"Good. You're finally asking the _right _questions."

With that, Sherlock strode out of the flat, John and Alexis in tow. Once in the hall, Alexis ran up alongside him and kissed him on the cheek.

"That was absolutely amazing. No one in there would have been able to catch that."

"I know. It's a pity." He looped his arm around hers.

"The look on Dimmock's face was priceless. I think you really put that guy in his place."

"Perhaps. But we'll still have to deal with him."

John came up alongside Sherlock. "So now where are we off to?"

"We should go and see Sebastian. Tell him what really happened to Van Coon before the police go and tell him it was a suicide. He's currently at a lunch meeting at a Japanese restaurant across town. We'll need to hurry."

They were just getting on the elevator when Alexis's phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and groaned. It was the Gallery.

"Hello?"

_"Alexis, it's Dr. McPhee."_

"Hi, what can I do for you?"

_"Well, I'm sorry to bother you, and if it's terribly inconvenient I'll understand. We had to let go Michelle this morning."_

"Let her go? What for?"

_"I can't disclose the precise reason, but I can tell you it greatly revolves around abuse of power and a general lack of respect. Anyway, if you wouldn't mind coming in and covering for her for today, it would be greatly appreciated."_

She exhaled and rolled her eyes. She'd had her suspicions about Michelle ever since she was hired; only because she was a real bitch.

"Alright, Dr. McPhee, I can be over in about an hour."

_"Thank you, Alexis. We'll rectify this, I promise."_

"Good-bye." She hung up the phone rubbed her temples, sighing.

"What is it?" John asked.

"They've called her into work. A recent hire was just fired and they need her to cover," Sherlock answered for her.

"Guys, I'm sorry. I really wanted to stick around, but they need me."

"It's fine. I'll text you with any new developments. They're going to give you at least a week off, I guarantee it," Sherlock told her.

Alexis smiled at the thought. She kissed him good-bye as they got off the elevator and she hailed a taxi back to her flat. She'd been wearing jeans and a simple long sleeved shirt, and showing up for work like that would guarantee working full-time for a straight month.

* * *

March 24, 2011

Sherlock had been right on the money about the Gallery giving Alexis time off. One full week, four of those days being paid vacation days. And the best part about it was that the days didn't have to be consecutive; whenever she needed them off, she had them.

She woke up about 10:00, and was immediately met with a text alert. It was from Sherlock. After adjusting her eyes to the brightness of the screen, she was finally able to make out what it said.

**Possible new development. Come to the flat. – SH**

She smiled.

**I'll be there in an hour. **

** Excellent. Congratulations on the paid time off, by the way. – SH**

He was definitely a mind reader.

** Thank you. **

She showered and dressed as quickly as she could. Once at the flat, she was greeted by the sight of Sherlock staring intently at pictures of Sir William's office taped above the fireplace. He didn't even notice her until she was standing right beside him.

"So what's this new development?" she asked, resting her hand on his back as he stared at the pictures.

"A journalist was shot dead in his flat last night. Doors and windows locked from the inside. Sound familiar?" He looked up at her, and her eyebrows rose.

"You mean someone _else _was killed by this maniac?"

"It would seem so."

Just then, John walked into the flat. "Morning, Alexis."

"Morning, John."

"I said 'Could you pass me a pen?'" Sherlock told him.

John threw him a confused expression as he put his coat on the back of his chair. "What? When?"

"About an hour ago."

"Didn't notice I'd gone out, then." He threw Sherlock a pen, and he caught it without even looking. "I went to see about a job at that surgery."

"How was it?"

"Great. She's great."

Alexis smiled wide.

"Who?" Sherlock asked, clearly curious.

"The job," John quickly answered.

" 'She'?"

"It."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, then gestured towards his laptop. "There, have a look."

John and Alexis walked over to the laptop and saw an article on a news website about a freelance journalist who was shot dead in his flat. Bryan Lukis was his name.

"'The intruder who can walk through walls,'" John read aloud.

"It happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat. Doors locked, windows bolted from the inside. Exactly the same as Van Coon."

John looked at Alexis, and she nodded. "God, you think…?"

"He's killed another one."

They made their way to Scotland Yard to inform Dimmock of the new development. None of them particularly wanted to see him again, but Sherlock needed to get inside Lukis's flat and Dimmock would be the man to get them in.

"Bryan Lukis," Sherlock began, typing on Dimmock's laptop and bringing it up to the website with the article. "Freelance journalist. Murdered in his flat, doors locked from the inside."

"You've got to admit that it's similar, Detective Inspector," Alexis told him.

"Yes. Both men killed by someone who can walk through solid walls," John added.

"Inspector, do you seriously believe that Van Coon was just another city suicide?" Sherlock asked him.

Dimmock rolled his eyes, and Sherlock sighed.

"You have seen the ballistics report, I suppose?"

He nodded ruefully.

"And the shot that killed him, was it fired from his own gun?"

"No."

"No. So, this investigation might move a bit quicker if you were to take my word as gospel."

He merely sat there, defeated.

"I've just handed you a murder inquiry. Five minutes in his flat."

Dimmock reluctantly agreed and took them to Lukis's flat. The flat wasn't the cleanest with books and papers taking up nearly the entire floor. Sherlock observed everything that he saw, then walked over to the window. He had a realization.

"Four floors up. That's why they think they're safe. Put a chain across the door, bolt it shut, they think they're impregnable. They don't reckon for one second that there's another way in." He walked out of the living room and into the hallway.

"I don't understand," Dimmock said.

"We're dealing with a killer who can climb," Sherlock told him.

"What are you doing?" Dimmock asked in disbelief.

Sherlock stepped up onto a stepstool in front of a skylight and opened it with a thunk. "He clings to the walls like an insect. That's how he got in."

"What?"

"He climbed up the side of the walls, ran along the roof, dropped in through this skylight."

"You're not serious. Like Spider-man?"

Alexis glared at him. She was not a fan of this guy.

"He scaled six floors of a Docklands apartment building, jumped the balcony and killed Van Coon."

"Oh, hold on!"

"And of course, that's how he got into the bank. He ran along the window ledge and onto the terrace. I have to find out what connects these two men."

He stepped down off the stool and headed down the stairs, stopping once he spotted an orange book. He picked it up and opened the front cover, noting that it came from the West Kensington Library. John and Alexis followed him out to the street and they got a cab to the library.

"The date stamped on the book is the same day that he died," Sherlock observed, putting the book onto its correct shelf and searching through the others. Alexis started to look through the books on the shelf next to his, seeing if she could find anything. John followed suit just across from Sherlock, pulling out books a few at a time. Suddenly, he saw something, and pulled out every book so whatever it was was in full view.

"Sherlock," he simply said. He and Alexis turned around to find the same exact cipher from the bank painted on the back of the bookshelf.

"Oh man," Alexis breathed.

They went back to Baker Street to go over everything that happened so far.

"So, the killer goes to the bank, leaves a threatening cipher for Van Coon. Van Coon panics, returns to his apartment, locks himself in Hours later, he dies," Sherlock said.

"The killer finds Lukis at the library, he writes the cipher on the shelf where he knows it'll be seen. Lukis goes home…" John added.

"Late that night, he dies too," Sherlock finished.

"But why did they die, Sherlock?" Alexis asked.

"Only the cipher can tell us." He ran his fingers along the picture, then tapped it and walked over to grab his coat from the back of the door.

"John, we need to go to the National Portrait Gallery. Alexis, you should stay here. With what we're doing, it won't be best for you to be seen there. Particularly because you're an employee."

"Okay…?"

"What are we doing, exactly?" John asked, but Sherlock merely kissed Alexis good-bye and headed down the stairs without a word. John looked over at her in confusion.

"Just make sure he doesn't get me fired. Everyone at work knows we're dating," Alexis told him. He chuckled a bit and followed Sherlock out to the street.

She stood alone in Sherlock's flat, looking at the pictures. Since this whole thing started, she hadn't felt like she was much use. Just someone tagging along.

"Not anymore," she said out loud. She went into Sherlock's desk drawer and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. She copied the cipher down perfectly and went over to the scanner, uploading it to Sherlock's laptop and saving it to the 'Images' folder. She went to Google and clicked the 'Search by image' button and uploaded the picture of the cipher.

Her results were very satisfying.


	11. Chapter 10

_**Amirizar2003: Thank you very much! And good luck with your stories!**_

* * *

Sherlock returned to the flat about half an hour later, and Alexis was eager to tell him what she found out. She was also curious, however, as to why John wasn't with him.

"Where's John?" she asked, looking down the stairs as he put his coat on the back of the door.

"He was held up by a few Community Support Officers. He'll be alright."

"Wait, what? What happened down there?"

Sherlock sighed and walked over to the fireplace. "We had to speak with a young man who was vandalizing the back entrance of the Gallery. He should be able to tell us if he's seen anymore of those symbols around the city."

Her eyes went wide. "This 'young man', is he short with kind of a buzz cut and wears oversized clothes?"

"Yes."

"We've been trying to catch that little bastard for months! You have to tell me who he is, Sherlock."

"I'll be happy to give you his identity once he's helped us with finding those symbols, but until then he needs to stay out of custody."

She sat down in his chair with a huff. He looked over at the table.

"You used the scanner. Why?"

"Oh!" She jumped up and went over to his laptop, pulling up the image screen on Google. Sherlock leaned in closely over her shoulder, truly amazed.

"How did you find this?"

"I drew the two symbols on a piece of paper and scanned them to the laptop, then entered the image into the 'Search by image' option on Google. It found this."

"Hangzhou," he breathed. "It's an ancient number system."

"Chinese," she confirmed.

He looked at her and smiled proudly, then swiftly picked her up out of the chair and kissed her deeply.

"You are brilliant!" he exclaimed, spinning her around as she laughed with delight. She loved when he got this happy over a case, but was even more pleased that she was able to help out with it.

"Good, excellent," he began, putting her down and returning to the fireplace, "we know the symbols. Now we just need to retrace Lukis and Van Coon's steps. We'll need John for that."

Another half hour later, the front door slammed shut, making Alexis jump in her chair. She knew it was John, and that he would not be happy.

He slowly walked through the door, and she smiled shyly at him.

"You've been a while," Sherlock said, not looking away from the pictures.

John smiled bitterly, turning towards him. "Yeah, well, you know how it is. Custody sergeants don't really like to be hurried, do they? Just formalities. Finger prints, charge sheet, and I've got to be in magistrates' court on Tuesday."

"What?" Sherlock asked, not paying attention.

"_Me, _Sherlock! In court, on Tuesday! They're giving me an ASBO!"

"Good, fine."

"You want to tell your little pal he's welcome to go and own up anytime."

"John, I'm so sorry about this. I'm going to get this taken care of as soon as I can," Alexis told him.

"Why you? You haven't done anything."

"Because I'm not the only one who wants to see that little rat get what he deserves. But unfortunately, Sherlock won't give up the kid's identity until the case is solved."

"I thought the kid's name was Raz?" he asked, looking at Sherlock.

"Do you really think that's his real name?" Sherlock replied.

John sighed and went to take off his coat, but Sherlock stopped him and put it back up his arms. "No, I need you to go to the police station and ask about the journalist. The personal effects will have been impounded. Get hold of his diary, or something that will tell us his movements. Come on, Alexis."

They grabbed their coats and headed out to the sidewalk, Sherlock and John each hailing their own cab.

"Where are we going?" Alexis asked Sherlock.

"To go and see Van Coon's PA. If you retrace their steps, somewhere they'll coincide."

Alexis followed Sherlock into the other cab, and for the first few minutes they didn't speak. Sherlock merely looked at her with admiration, and she smiled shyly once she noticed.

"What?" she asked.

"That really was brilliant. What made you think to do it?"

"Well, I didn't want to just sit around uselessly. I wanted to help, and it was the first thing that popped into my head. Then I found Hangzhou."

"You never sat around uselessly during the case. In fact, I think you've been more helpful than John."

"Oh, come on. John is like your right-hand man. He's always been very helpful, even if it were reluctantly so."

"Still, you've done well."

She smiled and kissed him.

They arrived at the bank ten minutes later and immediately went up to see Van Coon's PA. She looked like your typical PA; blonde, thin, posh clothing. At least this woman was polite.

"He flew back from Dalian Friday, then it looks like he had back-to-back meetings with the sales team," she told them, looking at his schedule on the monitor.

"Can you print me up a copy?" Sherlock asked her.

"Sure."

"What about the day he died? Can you tell me where he was?"

"Sorry, bit of a gap." She saw the look on his face, then quickly said, "I have all his receipts."

"Excellent. Show me."

They walked out to her desk and she spread them all out so they were in view.

"What kind of a boss was he, Amanda? Appreciative?" he asked, looking through the receipts.

"No. That's not a word I'd use. The only things Eddie appreciated had a big price tag."

"Like that hand cream. He bought that for you, didn't he?"

Amanda looked at the hand cream nervously, unconsciously fiddling with her hairpin. Alexis stifled a giggle. He suddenly picked up a receipt and handed it to Amanda.

"Look at this one. Got a taxi from home on the day he died. $18.50."

"That would get him to the office," she replied.

"Not rush hour. Check the time. Mid-morning. 18 would get him as far as…"

"The West End! I remember him saying."

He picked up another receipt and handed it to her.

"Underground, printed at one in Piccadilly."

"So he got a Tube back to the office. Why would he get a taxi into town and then the Tube back?"

"Because he was delivering something heavy. You wouldn't lug a package up the escalator."

"Delivering?"

"To somewhere near Piccadilly Station. Dropped the package, delivered it, and then…"

He looked at a receipt from the 'Piazza Espresso Bar Italiano', then stood up, handing it to Alexis.

"Alexis, look. He stopped on his way. He got peckish."

"Wait, where is this place?"

He looked at her and grinned. "Chinatown."

She smiled. "It would be, wouldn't it?"

"Thank you, Amanda," he said, and with that they headed to Chinatown.

Once they arrived at the restaurant, Sherlock immediately began contemplating.

"So you bought your lunch from here en route to the station, but where were you headed from? Where did the taxi drop you-?"

He was cut off when he backed into someone, and turned around to find John standing there.

"Eddie Van Coon brought a package here the day he died. Whatever was hidden inside that case. I've managed to piece together a picture using scraps of information – credit card bills, receipts. He flew back from China, then he came here."

"Sherlock-" John began, but was cut off.

"Somewhere in this street, somewhere near. I don't know where but-"

"That shop. Over there." John pointed to a shop just across the street from the restaurant. The Lucky Cat.

"How could you tell?" Sherlock asked him.

"Lukis's diary. He was here, too. He wrote down the address."

"Oh," he simply said, following John over to the shop.

"He's not so useless, either," Alexis whispered to him.

They walked into the shop and pretended to be looking at merchandise, all the while the woman behind the desk tried to get John to buy a "Lucky Cat". He finally got the woman to back off and walked over to a display which had three rows of cups lined up on it. He picked one up and turned it over, only to find one of the symbols from the bank and library drawn on the bottom.

"Sherlock, Alexis," he said. They walked over and looked at the cup.

"The label there…"

"Yes, I see it," Sherlock said.

"It's exactly the same as the cipher."

Alexis merely smiled and they walked out of the shop.

"It's an ancient number system. Hangzhou," Sherlock told John. "Alexis was able to find it online while we were at the Gallery. These days only street traders use it. Those were numbers written on the wall at the bank, and at the library. Numbers written in an ancient Chinese dialect."

"Wait, how did you find it, Alexis?" John asked.

"Let's just say the 'Search by image' button is now my favorite feature on Google," she replied proudly. He smiled.

"It's a 15. What we thought was the artist's tag, it's a number 15," he said, remembering the cup.

They approached a corn bin and Sherlock picked up a tag from one of the pieces. "And the blindfold, the horizontal line. That was a number as well. Chinese number one, John."

"We found it."

At a restaurant down the street, John and Alexis stopped for lunch while Sherlock wrote on his notepad.

"Two men travel back from China, both head straight for the Lucky Cat emporium," John began. "What did they see?"

"It's not what they saw," Sherlock corrected. "It's what they brought back in those suitcases."

"And you don't mean duty free."

"Think about what Sebastian told us. About Van Coon, about how he stayed afloat in the market."

"Lost five million."

"Made it all back in a week."

"Wow," Alexis said. "And I'm guessing he didn't achieve that simply by being a good, honest banker?"

"No," Sherlock replied. "That's how he made such easy money."

"He was a smuggler," John observed, taking a bite of his meal.

"His cover would have been perfect. Businessman, making frequent trips to Asia. Lukis was the same, a journalist writing about China. Both of them smuggled stuff about. The Lucky Cat was their drop-off."

"But I still don't understand why they died. It doesn't make sense," Alexis told them. "If they both turn up at the shop and deliver the goods, why would someone threaten them and then kill them after they finished the job?"

Sherlock straightened up and thought for a moment, then smirked.

"What if one of them was light-fingered?"

"How do you mean?" John asked.

"Stole something. Something from the hoard."

"And the killer doesn't know which of them took it so he threatens them both. Right."

Sherlock looked out the window, then something caught his eye across the street. A phone book leaned up against the door of a flat.

"Remind me. When was the last time that it rained?"

He got up from the table and went out to the flat, John and Alexis following. He leaned down and ran a finger along the corner; they were damp.

"It's been here since Monday," he observed, standing up and ringing the bell. There was no answer, so he immediately went down the alley and around to the back of the flat.

"No one's been in that flat for at least three days."

"Could have gone on holiday," John said.

Sherlock looked up at the open window. "Do you leave your windows open when you go on holiday?" He took a few steps back from the ladder of the fire escape, then ran up to it and pulled it down. As soon as he got to the flat part, the ladder flew up and out reach of John and Alexis.

"Sherlock!" John exclaimed. He shot Alexis an annoyed look and they both ran back to the front door. As soon as they got around, John rang the bell.

"Do you think maybe you could let us in this time?" he yelled.

No answer.

"Can you not keep doing this, please?"

Alexis exhaled and rang the bell. "Sherlock, come on! Let us in!"

They heard the sound of his muffled voice come from inside the flat, neither of them able to decipher what he was saying.

"What?" Alexis asked loudly.

He spoke again, still muffled.

"What are you saying?" John asked.

He continued to speak, but they gave up on trying to figure out what he said.

"We're wasting our breath, Alexis."

"Unfortunately, I think you're right."

After another minute, John got a sudden burst of anger and shouted into the mail slot once more. "Anytime you want to include me."

He was met by more muffled noise. He scoffed and walked in a circle as he started to mock him.

"Oh, I'm Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone because no one else can compete with my MASSIVE INTELLECT!"

"John, just calm down!" Alexis ordered, growing tired of his impatience even though hers was starting to grow.

"I'm sorry, Alexis, but I'm getting a bit tired of standing on the side lines, or should I say the side_walk _while Sherlock's inside investigating away!"

She sighed and leaned against the building, hoping Sherlock would come out soon; and that John wouldn't choke him to death once he did.

Finally, after another minute, Sherlock emerged from the flat. He looked exhausted.

"The, uh, milk's gone foul and the washing's started to smell. Someone left here in a hurry three days ago," he said, choking off the last few words.

"Somebody?" John asked.

Sherlock nodded. "Soo Lin Yao. We have to find her."

"How exactly?"

He leaned down and grabbed a piece of paper that was stuck in the doorway. It was torn from a notepad from the National Antiquities Museum and read "Soo Lin, please ring me. Tell me you're okay. Andy."

"Well, we can start with this." He cleared his throat and headed down the street. Alexis grabbed his arm and leaned into him gently.

"Sherlock, what's wrong with your throat?" she asked, concerned.

"Yeah, you've gone all croaky. Are you getting a cold?" John observed.

He coughed. "I'm fine."

* * *

"When was the last time that you saw her?" Sherlock asked Andy as he walked around the room. They'd gone to the Museum and tracked down Andy, a close colleague of Soo Lin's.

"Three days ago," he replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Here at the museum. This morning they told me she'd resigned. Just like that. Just left her work unfinished."

"What was the last thing that she did on her final afternoon?"

Andy took them to a storage room where there were countless foldaway shelves for storing artifacts.

"She does this demonstration for the tourists," he explained. "A tea ceremony. So she would've packed up her things and just put them in here."

He opened up the shelf that held her things, all the while Sherlock walking in the other direction.

"Sherlock, where-" Alexis began to ask, but instead was cut off by the sight of the cipher painted on a statue. Andy and John looked up, stunned.

"We have to get to Soo Lin Yao," Sherlock told them as they left the museum.

"If she's still alive," John chimed in.

"Sherlock!" They turned to find Raz, the kid from the Gallery, running towards them.

"Oh, look who it is," John said, clearly displeased.

"Great," Alexis added.

Raz approached them. "I found something you'll like." He glanced at John and Alexis, who merely glared at him as he led them away from the museum. It took all of Alexis's strength not to say anything, and Sherlock locked his arm with hers as if he knew what she was thinking.

"Tuesday morning, all you've got to do is turn up and say the bag was yours," John told Raz as they walked across the bridge.

"Forget about your court date," Sherlock ordered him.

Raz led them to a place where there were teenagers biking and skateboarding near the train tracks. The walls were covered in graffiti, and Alexis found herself admiring the art as they walked through it.

"You want to hide a tree, then a forest is the best place to do it, wouldn't you say?" Sherlock mused. "People would just walk straight past, not knowing. Unable to decipher the message."

They walked down a set of graffiti-covered steps and Raz pointed to one of the walls. Traces of the symbols stuck out from beneath new paint that covered it.

"There," he said, "I spotted it earlier."

"And that's the exact same paint?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah."

"John, Alexis, if we're going to decipher this code, we're going to need to look for more evidence. You two go together. I'll go this way."

They walked off in their separate directions, John and Alexis heading down a tunnel that had graffiti scattered about the walls. It led them out to the tracks and they decided to follow a set of them that led off into the distance. John had his flashlight pointed on the tracks as Alexis pointed hers straight ahead. He suddenly started to slow down when he saw yellow spots of paint on the ground before him. It led off to the left and up onto a small section of brick wall where he nearly stumbled back at what he saw.

"Alexis, look at this," he told her, his flashlight roaming about the wall to reveal at least thirty symbols in twos painted in yellow on it.

"Oh my god," she replied, her eyes transfixed on it.

"Quick, step back and hold the flashlight to it. I'm going to take a photograph."

She complied and he took the picture, then proceeded to try and contact Sherlock. Three unanswered calls later, they were running back up the tracks to find him. Five minutes later, they found him walking alongside a train car.

"Answer your phone, I've been calling you!" John yelled, stopping briefly. "We found it."

Without a word, they all ran back to the wall and were stunned to find that it was completely black.

"It's been painted over," John said, putting a finger to the wall and finding black paint there. "I-I don't understand, it was here. Ten minutes ago. I saw it, a whole load of graffiti! It was here, wasn't it Alexis?"

"Hell yeah, it was," she replied, staring at the wall.

"Somebody doesn't want me to see it," Sherlock said. He went over to John and put his hands on either side of his head. John stiffened up.

"Shh! John, concentrate. I need you to concentrate. Close your eyes!" he ordered.

"What? What? Why? Why? What are you doing?"

Sherlock began to spin them in slow circles. Alexis looked on completely dumbfounded.

"I need you to maximize your visual memory. Try to picture what you saw. Can you picture it?"

"Yeah."

"Can you remember it?"

"Yes, definitely."

"Can you remember the pattern?"

"Yes."

"How much can you remember?"

"Sherlock, he doesn't-" Alexis started to speak, but decided it was pointless.

"Well, don't worry," John continued.

"Because the average human memory on visual matters is only sixty-two percent accurate."

"Well don't worry, I remember all of it."

"Really?"

"Well at least I would if I could get to my pocket," he told him, shrugging out of his grip and pulling out his phone. "I took a photograph."

Sherlock looked at the picture with a straight face, Alexis once again smiling at his theatrics.


	12. Chapter 11

_**Cag21: Thank you very much! It warms my heart every time you (or anyone else) compliments my story!**_

_**And to any other readers (particularly Guest readers) who find it weird that Sherlock was so nice to Alexis, just know that this story is about Sherlock falling in love with someone and so he is going to be at least a little bit different with Alexis. **_

_**Also, I'm not the best when it comes to writing sexy scenes (like one you'll see in this chapter) but hopefully I'll get better at it as the story goes on. Please bear with me!**_

* * *

March 25, 2011

The next day, they were all in the living room of the flat as Sherlock looked at the newly developed pictures of the cipher. He divided it up into each individual pair and translated the numbers just underneath them. Alexis was sat in Sherlock's chair as John sat at the table, falling asleep. Sherlock apparently hadn't let him sleep that night.

"Always in pairs, John, look," Sherlock said, his eyes never leaving the pictures.

John merely groaned and looked briefly over his shoulder.

"The numbers…come with partners."

"God, I need to sleep," John whispered, stretching.

"Why with partners, do you think?" Alexis asked him.

"Not sure. But why did he paint it so near the tracks?" Sherlock responded.

"No idea," John chimed in.

"Thousands of people pass by there every day."

"Just twenty minutes…"

"Of course. Of course! He wants information, he's trying to communicate with his people in the underworld. Whatever was stolen, he wants it back. It's somewhere here, in a code." He grabbed the pictures of the number pairs from above the fireplace, then went to grab his coat. "We can't crack this without Soo Lin Yao."

"Oh, good," John said, groaning. Alexis got up and handed him his coat and shrugged into hers.

"Are you going to be alright, John? You haven't slept in two days. Now Sherlock can handle that, but I don't think you can."

"Well, either way, we're off to the museum, aren't we?"

She smiled at him sadly and they went back to the museum to confront Andy.

"Two men who traveled back from China were murdered," Sherlock told him sharply, "and their killer left them messages in the Hangzhou numerals."

"Soo Lin Yao is in danger," Alexis said.

"That cipher, it was just the same pattern as the others," John added. "He means to kill her as well."

"Look, I've tried everywhere. Er, friends, colleagues, I-I don't know where she's gone. I mean, she could be a thousand miles away."

Alexis and John could tell he was sincerely worried, but Sherlock merely rolled his eyes and looked at one of the display cases in the center of the room. His eyes became transfixed on it.

"What are you looking at?" John asked him.

"Tell me more about those teapots," Sherlock said.

"The pots were her session," Andy replied as they walked to the case. "They need urgent work. If they dry out, then the clay could start to crumble. Apparently you just need to keep making tea in them."

"Yesterday, only one of those pots was shining. Now there are two."

He walked out of the room and out of the museum, John and Alexis thanking Andy before they followed. They had to jog to catch up to him.

"What was that about?" John asked.

"Those pots were her session, right?" he merely asked.

"Yeah, so?" Alexis asked.

"If another one of those pots is shining today, and those were specifically _her _session, then…?"

John and Alexis looked at each other, then it hit them.

"Then she's alive," John said.

"And she's been working on the pots," Alexis added.

"And judging by the date of her resignation and how many pots she's worked on, she's going to come back here tonight and continue her work. That's when we'll find her."

* * *

6:00 p.m.

Night had begun to fall, and the three of them were about to set out for the museum to meet Soo Lin Yao. They were getting into their coats when Alexis's text alert went off. It was from Gwen.

**Having dinner at Hix. Care to join?**

She sighed and went to put her phone in her pocket, but Sherlock gently grabbed her arm.

"You should join her for dinner."

"How did you-? Nevermind. But Sherlock, we have to go meet Soo Lin, I can't-"

"John and I can take care of it. Besides, it could be dangerous."

She looked over at John, and he nodded. She pursed her lips then sighed.

"Fine."

**Love to. What time?**

**Seven?  
**

**Perfect. See you there.**

She headed out to the street with them, but she stopped Sherlock just before they were going to get into the taxi.

"Be careful," she told him, resting her forehead against his and her hands on his chest.

"Always am."

"No, you're not."

He smiled and kissed her deeply, then got into the taxi with John and drove off.

* * *

The Hix was a very A-List spot in London, so Alexis went home and put on her little black sleeveless dress that had a V-neck and came to just above the knee. She met Gwen at the restaurant five minutes late, and found her already at their table in the corner of the room.

"I'm so sorry!" she told her as she jogged up to the table, a bit wobbly in her two-inch heels.

"Good lord, girl, you like absolutely hot!" Gwen greeted, ignoring her apology.

"Thanks, have you ordered drinks yet?"

"Just red wine. I plan on taking it easy tonight."

"Good, same here."

Alexis didn't even realize she was on edge until she pulled her phone out of her bag and saw that her hand was shaking. Gwen noticed this as well.

"Everything okay there, Alexis?" she asked, a look of concern spreading across her face.

"Oh yeah, fine. I might just be a little…nervous."

"About what?"

"Nothing! Doesn't matter. Let's look at the menu, shall we?"

The waiter came over with the bottle of wine as well as a pitcher of water, and they each ordered their entrée. Once he left, Alexis downed her glass of wine in a heartbeat. Gwen looked on in confusion.

"How are things with Sherlock?" she asked. Alexis looked up at her and smiled.

"Really good, actually. Really…_really _good."

"Ah, okay…so why the shaking?"

She sighed and poured herself a glass of water. "I've been working with him on a case these past few days."

"Really? That's amazing! How's it coming along?"

"We make progress every day. I've even helped out considerably in a few areas."

"I'd love to hear about it. Unless of course it's classified or something."

"No, it's nothing like that." She paused for a moment, and Gwen looked at her with hopeful eyes. "It's best to start from the beginning."

Alexis explained every detail of the case to her, starting from the e-mail Sebastian sent to Sherlock and right up to that morning when they discovered Soo Lin had been secretly working on her pots. By the time she finished the story, Gwen was sitting there with her mouth agape.

"Oh. My. God," was all she could say. Alexis smiled at her nervously.

"Yeah, it's been crazy. And despite the fact that two people were murdered…it's been really fun."

"Uh…wow! That's just…wow!" Both of them laughed at Gwen's inability to speak.

"You kind of remind me of me that night back in January," Alexis told her.

"What? You mean the night you first kissed Sherlock?"

"Well, during dinner at the Chinese restaurant. He explained the entire case to me, and I just couldn't believe it. Hell, I can't even believe what's going on _now_!"

"Oh, yes you can," Gwen told her, smirking.

"Yeah, you're right. With Sherlock, the fact that I can't believe something when it happens…well, it means that I really do believe it."

Gwen shot her a puzzled expression. "I don't follow."

"Well, I guess with Sherlock, he's just absolutely amazing and is able to do such incredible things you wouldn't believe. But he really does do them."

"He sounds amazing."

"He is." She looked off into the distance, deep in thought about him.

"Hey," Gwen said, putting her hand on Alexis's, "I'm sure he's going to be alright tonight. If he's as incredible as you say he is, he'll manage to get out of any possible mess he gets into. Not that he will."

"I know. Thanks." Alexis smiled at her friend.

The waiter soon brought them their dinners, and to her surprise, Alexis was able to eat all of hers without a problem. During the meal, they talked more about what Gwen was up to, personally and with her hair salon. By the time they finished eating, Alexis was on the edge of her chair, wondering how things were going with Sherlock and John.

"I take it you don't want dessert, then?" Gwen asked, seeing how nervous Alexis was.

"Dessert? Considering I barely made it through dinner, I'm not sure I could keep down much else."

"Very well. Get out of here, I'll handle the check."

"Gwen, no, I'm not-"

"Get to Sherlock's flat! Right now!"

Alexis quickly kissed her friend on the top of the head and practically ran out to the street. As she was about to hail a cab, her text alert went off. It was John.

**If you can, come to the flat. Soo Lin is dead. We'll explain it all when you get here.**

Her heart sunk.

**On my way.**

When she arrived at the flat, there were three police cars parked along the sidewalk. She quickly got out of the cab and jogged up the stairs, almost running into Detective Inspector Dimmock.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Gilmore," he said, walking around her. "Alright, let's head back!"

He shut the door behind him, and Alexis made her way up to the living room. She was met with the sight of large crates filling up half the room. Sherlock was pulling books out of one of them while John was sitting at the table writing in a notebook.

"What happened?" she asked, and they both looked up.

"Well, we met Soo Lin at the museum," John began. "She told us about an ancient crime syndicate based in China. The Black Lotus. She, Van Coon, Lukis, and her brother were a part of it."

"Her brother?"

"Zhi Zhu," Sherlock continued. "He's the one who's been leaving the ciphers and killing them…and tonight, he killed his sister."

"Oh my god…"

"But she told us that the code, the numbers in the Hangzhou numerals, were based on a book," John added. "She was about to tell us which book, but then Zhi Zhu came and everything just went downhill from there."

"Okay, but what are all these books?"

"Every book from Lukis and Van Coon's apartment," Sherlock told her, going back to looking through the books. "The cipher was based on a book, so it would have to be one that they both own. Then, you turn to page fifteen and it's the first word you read. That's the message."

"Wow," was all she could say. She took off her coat and placed it on the arm of the couch. "So, one that they _both _would own, right?"

"Yes," Sherlock replied, not looking up.

"Right."

Without another word, she grabbed a handful of books each from a 'Lukis' and 'Van Coon' box. She sat on the floor and began to scan through them, all the while Sherlock staring at her with admiration. He hadn't even asked her to help, but there she was. He also couldn't get over how lovely she looked in her dress. He was so caught up in the sight of her that he didn't even notice John looking at him at first, but once he did he frowned and went back to work. John smiled.

By the time midnight came around, Alexis was sat on the couch with books off to the side of her. She leaned on her elbow, struggling to stay awake and fight the yawns that hit her every five minutes. Finally, she had to give in.

"Sherlock, I'm just going to rest my eyes for a minute," she told him, moving a pillow onto the arm of the couch and resting her head on it.

"Fine," he replied.

Not one minute passed before he looked up at her and saw that she'd fallen asleep. He put down the book he was looking at and walked over to her, shrugging out of his jacket and laying it gently over her sleeping form. He turned around and saw John smiling once again.

"There aren't any blankets," he whispered sharply.

* * *

March 26, 2011

Seven a.m. rolled around, and they'd gotten nowhere. Alexis had slept straight through the night, while John merely wished for sleep.

The alarm on his watch went off, and he groaned, putting his face in his hands.

"I have to get ready for work," he mumbled, slowly rising from his chair and walking upstairs to get a shower.

Sherlock ignored him as he looked around the room, pausing to look at Alexis as she was waking up. She slowly opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at Sherlock, who had walked over and sat on the other end of the couch. Once she stretched and leaned up on her elbow, she became aware of his jacket lying over her torso.

"Thank you," she told him, sitting up and pulling the jacket into her lap.

"There weren't any blankets," he said, mimicking what he'd told John the night before.

"How long was I out?"

"Seven hours. You fell asleep around midnight and didn't wake up once."

"Sorry, I wanted to help more. I'm just not accustomed to pulling all-nighters like you and John are."

"It's fine. We didn't make any progress anyway. I don't understand." He ruffled his hair with his hands in frustration. Alexis wrapped an arm around his torso.

"You will. You always do," she told him. He smiled slightly and looked down at her dress.

"You look lovely in that dress."

She giggled and blushed. "Thank you, but nonetheless I look awful in the morning."

He slid a finger under her chin and leaned in so his face was mere inches from hers. "Impossible."

He closed the gap between them and kissed her, gently at first but more intensely when Alexis got on her knees and straddled his lap. They deepened the kiss and began to explore each other's mouths with their tongues. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist and suddenly found himself shifting their positions so that he was laying on top of her on the couch. Alexis moaned into his mouth as he did this, but never faltered. They continued to kiss like this until the realization that they were in the living room popped into Sherlock's head, and that John could walk in at any moment. He pulled away from her and looked at her with slight apprehension.

"Alexis, I'm…I mean-"

"No, it's okay. I-"

"I can't believe I-"

They babbled on like this for a few seconds until the straightened up on the couch, smoothing out their clothes and hair. Sherlock sighed.

"I don't know what came over me, Alexis."

"Neither do I," she replied. He stared down in his lap, but she gently pulled him up to face her. "But it was nice."

"I agree, but the way I…"

He couldn't find the words, so she continued for him. "I know you respect me, which is why I welcomed it. I admit, I was a bit forward at the beginning getting on your lap like that-"

"No, you're not at fault."

"Neither of us is. We're dating, and we were kissing. It's not bad."

"I know. Of course I know that, it was just…"

"Intense?"

"Yes, that's a good word for it."

She giggled and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll go easier on you next time."

He smiled and kissed her gently on the lips. "You should go back to work today."

"No, Sherlock, you still need help. And John is just starting out with his job today, I can't leave you."

"I'll be fine. We didn't get anywhere with the books, but I'll keep looking elsewhere. You should save up your vacation days."

"Okay. But if you need anything…"

"I'll let you know. Come on, I'll call you a cab."

He took her hand and walked her down to the street where there was already a cab waiting. She looked at him quizzically.

"I called ahead."  
She nodded. "Of course."

He leaned down and kissed her deeply, then walked her to the cab and paid the driver.

"Thanks, and good luck," she told him. He smiled, guiding her into the cab and shutting the door. He watched as the cab pulled away and remained where he stood until it turned out of sight, then walked back into the flat to continue the case.


	13. Chapter 12

_**Sorry for the delay! This chapter was a bitch to write! Hope you enjoy it!**_

_**Also, if any of you have read "More Effective Than a Nicotine Patch" by VanityFlair, you may notice some similarities in our stories; at least this chapter so far. Just so you know, I've talked to VanityFlair about this and she's alright with it. As she put it, if you're going off of already made material, there's not much you can do. Thank you VanityFlair and I hope you return to soon!**_

_**Amirizar2003: Me too! Glad I wrote them well! :D**_

* * *

Work dragged on forever for Alexis. From the lack of texts or calls from either Sherlock or John, she assumed that nothing had happened. All day, she'd been going over the case in her head, trying to figure out anything they could have missed. However, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't think of one thing. It would be up to Sherlock.

When work finally ended, she walked out into the square and immediately texted Sherlock.

**Have you gotten anywhere with the books?**

Not ten seconds later did she get a reply:

**No, but I may have found the Black Lotus general as well as the assassin. – S**

** Where?**

** The Yellow Dragon Circus. In London for one night only. It fits. I'm on my way there. John is there with his date already.**

** Date? John made a date to go there?**

** He doesn't know it's them, nor does he know I'm coming.**

** Ah, got it. Do you want me to come?**

** No.**

** Alright then. Be careful.**

** Maybe.**

She smiled and put the phone away. He would never change.

* * *

At her flat, Alexis was restless. She paced back and forth in her living room, catching her foot on the coffee table a few times but quickly shrugging it off. She'd been left out of a few significant parts of the case for two days now and it was driving her mad. Sherlock and John, and whoever John's date was, were going to be in the same place as these maniacs and anything could happen. The worst part was, she had no idea exactly _what _was happening. She contemplated texting Sherlock again, but she didn't want to irritate him with constant texts or possibly screw up his plan. She couldn't help but be worried about him; she really cared about Sherlock. However, she didn't want to be one of those needy, controlling, overly worrisome girlfriends. So, she slumped down onto her couch and simply prayed for everything to turn out okay.

Two hours later, Alexis had fallen asleep but was startled awake by her text alert.

**It was them. General Shan and Zhi Zhu were at the circus, but they got away. **

** Are you alright?**

** Yes. John and I are back at the flat. As well as John's date…**

She was about to ask if John's date was annoying when he said:

**Will you come to the flat?**

She smiled.

**You don't have to ask me twice.**

* * *

The cab pulled onto Baker Street, but the cabbie bypassed Sherlock's flat when he saw that every parking spot around it was taken.

"Sorry, love, doesn't seem to be a place to park," he told her, looking at her through the rear view mirror.

"That's fine, I don't mind walking," she replied, getting her money ready.

He pulled up a block away, and she handed him the money and got out. She walked quickly down to the flat, but stopped when she saw something odd. There was a black van parked directly in front of the van with its door propped open. It was difficult to tell from the distance she was at, but she could have sworn she saw someone laying down in it. She glanced at Sherlock's door and saw two people coming out of it; a man in dark clothes, and a woman who was bound and gagged. Alexis gasped and ducked into the alleyway, peering out around the corner as she helplessly watched the crime take place. She knew the woman had to be John's date, and that it was most likely John on the floor of the van.

The man pushed the bound woman into the back of the van and pulled the door shut. Alexis ducked back further into the alley as it started up and peeled down the street. As soon as it was out of sight, she bolted for the flat. She pushed the door open and ran up to the living room, only to be met with the cipher spray painted on the front windows.

She was ready to call the police when she heard Sherlock's voice as he entered the flat.

"John! John, I've got it! The cipher, the book. It's the London A-Z that they're using-"

Sherlock had sprinted up the stairs, but froze in his place once he saw the symbols. A look of fear spread across his face, then he looked at Alexis.

"I-I came to the flat just like you asked, and I saw them taking John and his date away," Alexis told him. "Then I ran in here and found this…"

"They've taken John and Sarah, but I know where they'll go!" he said, rushing over to his bookcase.

"Where?"

"Tramway."

He skimmed through the books and pulled out a map from one of the shelves. He opened it and slammed it onto his desk, scanning it for the location.

"I wish I could've done more for them, but I was-"

"There's nothing you could have done, Alexis. They would have kidnapped you as well," he said. He touched a point in the middle of the map with his finger and ran for the door.

"Wait, I have to come with you!"

"No, Alexis. You stay here," he ordered.

"No, Sherlock! You'll be completely outnumbered, you need help!"

"I'll be fine, I know what to do! Besides, I'm not risking your safety."

"Damnit, Sherlock!"

He rushed over to her and kissed her hard on the mouth.

"Don't worry," he told her. With that, he ran out of the flat.

She stood in the middle of the flat, completely unsure of what to do. He'd just left her there, not even telling her exactly where he was going. How many tramways were there in London anyway? Suddenly realizing what she had to do, she frantically searched for her phone through her purse, then dialed the number for Scotland Yard.

"Yes, I need to speak to Detective Inspector Dimmock right away, it's an emergency!"

She practically shouted this into the phone, and the woman transferred her immediately.

_"Dimmock."_

"Dimmock, it's Alexis Gilmore. John and his date were kidnapped from the flat by the Black Lotus. Sherlock went after them, but he's going to need help."

_"Okay, do you know where they went?"_

"The Black Tramway in…"

She trailed off as she ran over to the map, searching around the center of it frantically and gasping when she found the location.

"Holborn! It's in Holborn!"

_"Excellent, thank you. I'll send a few cars and I'll pick you up, alright? Just stay at the flat, I'll be there in ten."_

"Thank you, Dimmock!"

She threw her phone into her purse and ran down to the front door to wait for Dimmock.

"God, please let them be okay. Please let _him _be okay," she whispered aloud. "I love him, he can't-"

_Wait, love?_

She covered her mouth when she realized what she'd said, but shook it from her mind once she saw a police car approaching. She ran out and slammed the door as Dimmock emerged from the driver's side.

"I have other officer's on their way. They'll be there before us."

"Thank you, Dimmock. I just hope they're okay."

"If Sherlock is as amazing as Lestrade says he is, I'm sure he will."

Alexis got in the car and they drove off to the tramway. Dimmock was going well above the speed limit, and she was grateful that he had the authority to do so. As soon as they got there, they ran from the car and over to the archway that led into the tramway underground. Dimmock went over to talk to another officer while Alexis stood in the middle of the road, watching as police officers walked in and out. Sherlock and John were nowhere to be found.

"Alexis."

Dimmock walked over to her, ready to say something when two familiar silhouettes emerged from the tramway. She smiled wide when Sherlock, John, and the woman who John had his arm around walked out into the night. John and his date walked by her and John flashed her a grateful smile. Sherlock slowly approached her and Dimmock.

"We'll just slip off. No need to mention us in your report."

"Mr. Holmes-" he started to say, but Sherlock cut him off.

"I have high hopes for you, Inspector. A glittering career."

"If I go where you point me."

He took Alexis by the hand and began to walk away. "Exactly."

"What happened?" she asked him.

"They had John and Sarah tied up and ready to kill them unless they told them where the treasure was."

"The treasure…? You mean whatever it was that Lukis or Van Coon stole?"

"Yes. A hairpin is what it was. They interrogated John, thinking that he was me, and they nearly killed Sarah with a trick they used at the circus earlier this evening."

"A hairpin?"

"Yes."

They quickly approached the ambulance where John and Sarah were sat, but Sherlock stopped them and looked down at Alexis. "Also, if I recall correctly, I specifically told you not to leave the flat."

She smiled sheepishly. "Well…"

"Well what?"

Her expression became more serious. "Sherlock, did you seriously think I was going to let you go in there all alone? You could have been killed! John and Sarah could have been killed! And while I myself couldn't do much to help, I figured that sending over a few police officers might suffice. Is that alright with you?"

He looked at her with a straight face, then he slowly smiled. "I suppose. Thank you."

He leaned down and kissed her deeply, wrapping his arms around her waist as Alexis threaded her hands through his hair. They were soon interrupted by John clearing his throat and they pulled away.

"Sorry," he began. "Uh, Sarah's still a bit shaken up, so I'm going to go back to her flat with her. I probably won't be back 'till morning."

"Very well," Sherlock said.

"How's your head, John?" Alexis asked, noting the small bandage on his temple.

"Well, it should be a quick enough heal. And thanks for calling Dimmock, by the way."

"No problem. Just wanted to make sure you'd be safe."

He smiled. "Anyway, I'll see you guys."

"Bye, John."

He walked over to Sarah and gently took hold of her arm, leading her from the ambulance and out to the main road.

"Well," Sherlock began, walking them up to the road. "Whitehall Place is only a mile and a half from here. Shall I walk you home?"

She smiled. "Sure."

About midway through the walk, Alexis felt things were beginning to feel as they did the night Sherlock walked her home after the serial murderer incident. They hadn't spoken much, but this time it was solely because of her.

Her mind went back to earlier that night when she was waiting for Dimmock to pick her up from Sherlock's flat. Out loud, she told herself that she loved him. Did she really? Or was she just panicking because he was in danger? He'd been in danger plenty during the case, but she'd never said or thought that before that night.

Was she truly in love with Sherlock?

"What are you thinking about?" Alexis heard out of the blue. Sherlock was looking down at her with wondering eyes.

"Nothing in particular. Just…thinking…"

"No, I don't think that's quite true. You're deep in thought about something, though I can't tell what it is."

"I'm fine, Sherlock, really."

He sighed. "You can't lie to me, Alexis."

"I'm not!" she said a bit too quickly. "I'm just…I don't know." She struggled to come up with a decent lie, then came up with a truth to cover it. "You could've been hurt, Sherlock. I guess I just wish I could have helped more."

"You did well, Alexis. You immediately knew that Van Coon had been threatened, and you also had the sense to search for those symbols."

"I know, but when it came to when you and John were in danger, I wasn't even around."

"Because I didn't want you to be. Alexis, I want you to be safe. Ever since the night we met, the night that Alexander Russell nearly…" He couldn't finish that sentence, but continued. "I saw the look of fear in your eyes. Even though I didn't know you as well as I do now, I still hated it. I never want to see you look like that again, nor do I want you in the slightest danger. Do you see?"

They'd turned onto Whitehall Place and Alexis stopped them at the corner. She laid her hand on his cheek and reached up to kiss him sweetly, then wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him.

"Thank you," she whispered, pressing her lips to his cheekbone.

"No thanks are necessary," he replied.

"Too bad, you've been thanked," she teased, pulling away and taking his hand. "Now walk me the rest of the way."

They made it to her flat and they kissed goodnight. As soon as Sherlock was in a cab and on his way back to Baker Street, Alexis slipped into her flat and leaned against the door. She'd been able to get him off of the topic she'd been stressing about, but what he told her went straight to her heart and confirmed her own beliefs.

Alexis Gilmore was in love with Sherlock Holmes.


	14. Chapter 13

_**Amirizar2003, I love you regular reviews with all my heart! I also love the shirt you have on in your new profile pic! :D**_

_**By the way, I try to make the dates as accurate as possible by going by the website created by the BBC that is supposed to be John's blog. However, they may be off by a day or two occasionally just so you know!**_

* * *

March 28, 2011

The day prior, Sherlock, John, and Alexis had gone back to the Shad Sanderson bank to inform Sebastian of how Zhi Zhu had gotten into the bank; as well as to retrieve the hairpin. Apparently, Van Coon had stolen it while he was in China and gave it to his secretary, Amanda, as a present. Once Sherlock told her its value, she shrieked and ran from the room; much to his amusement. Sebastian also rewarded them with a check for £20,000 pounds. John was quite pleased.

That day, Alexis joined Sherlock and John for breakfast at their flat. Sherlock was reading a newspaper whose headline read "_Who Wants To Be a Million-Hair". _They'd both scoffed at the corniness of it. He set it down and sipped his coffee.

"Over a thousand years old and it's sitting on her bedside table every night," John said, taking a bite of his cereal.

"He didn't know its value. Didn't know why they were chasing him," Sherlock replied.

"It's still insane, though," Alexis observed.

"Should've just got her a lucky cat," John joked. Sherlock and Alexis smiled. He leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands. "You mind, don't you?" he asked Sherlock.

"What?"

"That she escaped. General Shan. It's not enough that we got her two henchmen."

"Must be a vast network, John. Thousands of operatives. The three of us have barely scratched the surface."

"But you cracked the code, Sherlock. You figured out which book it was," Alexis told him. He rested a hand on her arm in sad gratitude.

"Yeah, and maybe Dimmock can track down all of them, now he knows it," John added.

"No. No, I crack this code, all the smugglers have to do is pick up another book."

"Well, you still did good," Alexis said, kissing him on the cheek. Sherlock smiled slightly and picked up the newspaper once more, snapping it open.

John shot a sympathetic look at her, then he furrowed his brow when he looked out the window. Alexis turned her head and saw a young Asian man spray-painting an eye on a black object across the street from their flat. She looked over at John and exchanged an alarmed glance. He shook his head, silently telling her not to mention it to Sherlock.

"Anyway, when does your flight leave today, Sherlock?" John asked him.

Alexis whipped her head towards him. "Flight? What flight?"

"I'm going to Minsk. A young Englishman's got himself on death row for murdering a waitress. He contacted me, and I'm going there today to hear his story. Flight leaves at 1:30."

"And apparently, this kid's family's got money," John added.

"Is that all you ever think about, John? Money?" Sherlock asked, not looking up from his paper.

"It is when we need it."

"John, you just got £20,000 from Sebastian yesterday. Spend that money and then worry. Besides, you just got a job!" Alexis said.

"'I just _had _a job' would be the correct expression."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, apparently falling asleep on the job isn't something the surgery is too keen on. They sacked me yesterday."

"Oh god, I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be. Plenty of other jobs out there."

She smiled sadly at him as he got up from his chair.

"Well, I'm meeting Sarah for lunch. Going to shower."

He took his bowl into the kitchen, then walked up the stairs to his bathroom. Alexis stared at Sherlock as he read the paper, her mind going back to her epiphany regarding their relationship.

"You're staring rather intently, so I'm assuming you're seeing something interesting."

His voice startled her into consciousness.

"Oh, sorry! No."

"You want to question me about my trip, don't you?"

She bit her lower lip, embarrassed that she was so transparent. "Yes, but at the risk of sounding like an annoying, over-bearing girlfriend I'm going to choose not to and look down at my plate."

"I'm well aware that you are neither of those things as my girlfriend so feel free to ask whatever you like. But not too many questions."

"Okay, how long do you think you'll be there?"

"Unsure. Next."

"Will it be dangerous?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Good. I'm done."

"No, there's one more."

"What would that be?"

"You want to know if you could accompany me to the airport."

"Right. If you want me to, I will."

"That's fine." He put down the paper and looked at his watch. "It's 10:00 now, I'll go pack. I'll be back in a moment." He got up and strode back to his room. As soon as he shut the door, Alexis sank in her chair and covered her face with her hands.

How could she be in love with Sherlock already? They'd only been dating two months! Sure, they'd known each other since October, but they didn't even become actual friends for about a month after that! She was utterly conflicted. Part of her wanted to tell him, but the other part was screaming at her and calling her an idiot for even entertaining the thought. It was hard enough for him to warm up to admitting he liked her, but to admit _love_? It was too soon. She had to keep her mouth shut for the sake of their relationship.

Well, at least she had to keep her mouth shut to _him._

She quickly pulled out her phone and texted Gwen, telling her to meet her at Caffe Florian in Harrods at 2:30. She had to tell someone about this, and Gwen was the only person she could trust.

Sherlock emerged from his room not ten minutes later, dressed and carrying one small suitcase. He grabbed his coat and scarf and put them on, then gestured towards the door.

"Shall we?"

* * *

"Love?"

Gwen held her tea cup just under her mouth, which had become slack jawed. "Like _in love_? You're in love with Sherlock?"

"Yes, I am! I know it's kind of soon, but I've never been so sure about anything before in my life. I'm in love with Sherlock."

Gwen smiled, finally setting down her cup. "You are. I can see it in your eyes. I'm so happy for you, love, it's great!"

"Thanks."

"So that's it then? That's all you wanted to tell me, that you're in love?"

"Well…"

"There's something else, isn't there? Something you're not telling me."

Alexis sighed and took a sip of her tea. "It's just…Sherlock isn't very forthcoming with his feelings. It's a miracle that he feels any affection for me now as a simple girlfriend. But to tell him I'm in love with him…Gwen, I might lose him. That's the last thing I ever want."

"Hold on, now. You're not just a simple girlfriend to him. I've never met him, but you've told me enough for me to know that you mean a hell of a lot to him. For him to even smile at you or kiss you means that you are something special. Why the hell wouldn't he love you?"

"I-I don't think he loves anybody, really."

"Doesn't he have a brother?"

Alexis shot her a look, then Gwen cleared her throat.

"Ah, okay, bad example. But you get my point, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Gwen sighed. "Look, I know I'm not the most qualified to give advice on true love given I've never actually been in love. However, I know you. I know you have the biggest heart of anyone I know, and I know you love Sherlock. And while I can't disagree with your reasoning, you shouldn't deny your feelings."

"I'm not denying them. I'm just not saying them. I'm…afraid."

"I know you are. You don't want to lose him and I completely understand that. Just don't wait too long."

Alexis smiled at her. "Thanks, Gwen. You're an amazing friend."

"No I'm not. I'm just giving voice to everything you're thinking."

She couldn't disagree with that last bit.

* * *

March 30, 2011

Sherlock had been gone for about two days and didn't contact Alexis once. She wasn't worried, she just wondered why he didn't at least text her. Maybe he was so in-depth into the case that he didn't have time for contact; or maybe it was the exact opposite and he was just sitting in his hotel room going mad.

It was 8:00 p.m., and Alexis was curled up on her couch ready to watch a movie when her text alert went off. She expected it to be Gwen wanting to chat, but to her surprise, it was Sherlock.

**I'm bored. – S**

She was surprised by this incredibly random and mundane statement.

** Is the case not going well?**

** I didn't take the case. I'm back in London. Have been since the afternoon. – S**

** Oh, sorry. So you're just at the flat then? Where's John? **

** Out with a mate. Has been for hours. I'm going mad. – S**

** Would you like me to come over? We can get Chinese if you're interested.**

** If you like. Anything to extinguish the boredom. – S **

** Very well. See you in 15.**

** Do hurry. – S**

She smiled and dropped her phone in her purse. She quickly changed her clothes and left for his flat. When she got there, she saw John getting out of another taxi.

"Hello, John," she greeted, getting out of the taxi and handing the driver the money.

"Evening, Alexis. Here for Sherlock then?"

"Who else? Apparently, he's going mad with boredom. I'm here to try and relieve him of it."

"Well, good luck with that."

He held the door open and they both stepped inside. John was about to take off his coat when they suddenly heard gunshots coming from upstairs. Alexis yelped and jumped back, nearly falling through the doorway. The shots continued, and they both ran up the stairs to see what the commotion was. When they reached the living room, however, they were met by the sight of Sherlock in his pajamas slumped down in his chair with a gun in his hands.

"What the hell are you doing?" John yelled.

"Bored," Sherlock replied, emotionless.

"What?"

"Bored!"

He jumped out of his chair and John and Alexis covered their ears as he fired two more shots at the wall. John rushed in and grabbed the gun from Sherlock's hand as he strode over to the wall, a yellow smiley face having been painted there.

"Don't know what's got into the criminal classes. Good job I'm not one of them," Sherlock said. Alexis stared at him in disbelief from the doorway.

"So you take it out on the wall?" John asked, taking the bullets out of the gun and stuffing them into his pocket.

"Oh, the wall had it coming." He turned on his heel and dropped backwards onto the couch. Alexis walked over to the table and sat in the chair closest to him, still slightly shaken from the shooting.

"What about that Russian case?" John asked, putting his coat on his chair.

"Yeah, what happened with that, Sherlock?" Alexis inquired.

"Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time."

"Oh, shame," John replied, walking into the kitchen. He rolled his eyes at the sight of the test tubes and other equipment covering the table. "Anything in? I'm starving." He opened the fridge and was met with the sight of a severed head in the refrigerator. "Oh f…!"

"What is it, John?" Alexis asked, not moving from her spot but still curious.

He opened the door once more and stared at the head with disbelief. "It's a head. A severed head."

"Just tea for me, thanks," Sherlock replied nonchalantly.

"There's a head in the fridge," John told him as he walked back into the living room. "A bloody head!"

"A what?" Alexis asked with wide eyes.

"Well where else was I supposed to put it? You don't mind, do you?"

John sighed and rubbed his forehead in response.

"I got it from Bart's morgue. I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death. I see you've written up the taxi driver case."

Alexis wanted to say something, but words escaped her.

"Er…yes," John replied, moving on from the head.

"'A Study in Pink.' Nice."

"Well, you know. Pink lady, pink case, pink phone. There was a lot of pink. Did you like it?"

"Um…no."

"Well, it does fit the case," Alexis managed to say.

"Thanks, Alexis. But I thought you'd be flattered, Sherlock."

"Flattered?" He put down the magazine he was reading and looked over at John. "'Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things.'"

"Now hang on a minute, I didn't mean that-"

"Oh you meant 'spectacularly ignorant' in a nice way," Sherlock mocked.

"Perhaps a bad choice of words," Alexis whispered to John.

"Look," Sherlock continued, "it doesn't matter to me who's Prime Minister or who's sleeping with who…"

"Or that the Earth goes 'round the sun," John added.

"Oh, not that again. It's not important!"

"Not impor-?" John leaned towards him in his seat. "It's primary school stuff. How can you not know that?"

"Well, if I ever did, I've deleted it."

Alexis furrowed her brow and looked at him. "Deleted it?"

"Listen," Sherlock began, sitting up on the couch and pointing to his head. "This is my hard drive, and it only makes sense to put things in there that are useful. _Really _useful. Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish, and that makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters! Do you see?"

She smiled slightly. Despite the fact that her boyfriend forgot one of the most basic facts in existence, she had to agree with him. "That makes a lot of sense actually."

John, however, wasn't having it. "But it's the solar system!"

"Oh, hell! What does that matter? So we go 'round the sun! If we went 'round the moon, or 'round and 'round the garden like a teddy bear, it wouldn't make any difference! All that matters to me is the work! Without that my brain rots!" He ruffled his hair about in frustration. "Put that in your blog. Or better still, stop inflicting your opinions on the world."

He smacked away the magazine on the table and turned over on the couch, pulling his robe around him and laying his head on the pillow. Defeated, John got up from his chair and put on his coat. Sherlock peered around behind him as John made his way to the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"Out! I need some air. See you later, Alexis," he called behind him.

"Bye, John," she said, looking over at a sulking Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson then walked into the room and knocked on the door.

"Yoo hoo," she greeted, walking into the kitchen. "Have you two have a little domestic?"

Sherlock didn't reply but got up, walking over his coffee table and over to the window next to Alexis. He watched without emotion as John walked down Baker Street, and Alexis stood and laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"I think you went a bit too far," she whispered. Sherlock merely huffed in response but put his left arm around her waist.

"It's a bit nippy out there," Mrs. Hudson said. "He should've wrapped himself up a bit more. Oh Alexis, dear, are you hungry?"

"No thank you, Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock and I are probably going out for Chinese."

She nodded and continued putting around the kitchen.

"Look at that, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said, still looking out the window. "Quiet. Calm. Peaceful. Isn't it hateful?"

Alexis smiled sadly and walked around to the end of the table to grab her purse.

"Oh I'm sure something will turn up, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson told him, walking out of the kitchen. "A nice murder. That'll cheer you up."

"Hmm, can't come too soon."

"Hey, wh-what have you done to my bloody wall?"

Sherlock smirked and turned to look at the bullet-filled smiley face.

"I'm putting this on your rent, young man!"

She hurried down the stairs, Sherlock smiling proudly at his work. He then sighed and turned to look at Alexis, who was digging through her purse looking for money. She looked up at him.

"Well, if you're-"

She was cut off as an explosion ripped through the windows, knocking her and Sherlock to the ground and the world around her going dark…


	15. Chapter 14

_**Longest chapter so far people! It's getting interesting!**_

_**Amirizar2003: Aww you knew I'd leave on that bit? Have I become so transparent? ;) Anyway, I'm excited to read your story now whenever you get to it!**_

* * *

Sherlock groaned loudly when his body hit the floor. He wasn't in very much pain, but his eyes were out of focus and it took him a moment to be able to move the slightest inch. Once he was able to focus, he slowly leaned up onto his elbows and looked around the flat. The biggest mess was near the front windows, but there was glass scattered all across the floor. As he was observing this, his mind clicked and he suddenly remembered that Alexis was there. His eyes widened with fear when he looked across from him and saw her unconscious form.

"Alexis!"

He crawled over to her, noting the glass stuck in her back and the cut on the side of her face. He carefully pulled each shard out of her and then gently turned her onto her back and laid her head over his legs.

"Alexis, darling, can you hear me?" He softly stroked the wound on her cheek and stroked her face. As he looked down on her, waiting for her to wake up, he suddenly became aware of the glass in his own back and winced in pain. He didn't care, though; he just needed Alexis to wake up and be alright.

After a very long moment, Alexis blinked her eyes and slowly opened them. Sherlock was the first thing she saw and she weakly reached up to touch his face. He sighed in relief.

"Thank god," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.

"Sherlock, what happened?"

"There was an explosion. Had to have been the building across the road. Can you move?"

"I think so."

He supported her as she slowly sat up, hugging him as she did so. She pulled back to look at his face and kissed him, her hands moving to his back. She gasped when she felt the glass.

"Sherlock, don't move. You're hurt."

She got on her knees and moved behind him, picking out each shard one by one. He stood up once she finished and went over to the window.

"The building's completely destroyed. Gas main, probably."

"My god, I hope nobody was in there."

"It's abandoned, so probably not."

"Well, either way, we should call the police."

"I wouldn't bother. Everyone else on the street's probably done so already."

Alexis nodded, then her eyes went wide. "Oh my god, Mrs. Hudson!"

Sherlock straightened up and ran down the stairs. She wasn't on the stair case or in the foyer so she had to have made it back to her flat. He burst through her door without even knocking and found her leaning on her kitchen counter.

"Mrs. Hudson, are you alright?" he asked, walking over to her.

"Fine, Sherlock dear. I'm just a bit shaken. What about Alexis?"

"She'll be alright. Just don't leave the flat."

"Of course."

He ran back up to his flat and found Alexis sitting on the couch. She was holding her hand to her cheek, covering the cut.

"I'll take care of that." He walked into the kitchen and grabbed the first aid kit, then went back out to the couch and sat beside her. He took out an alcohol swab and cleaned the cut. She winced slightly at the stinging sensation.

"Sorry," he whispered, dabbing gently at the cut until he felt it was clean enough. He then pulled out a tube of antiseptic cream, squeezing a small amount onto his finger and gingerly rubbing it along the cut.

"That should do it." He wiped his finger on a tissue and tossed it into the nearby trashcan.

"Thank you," she said, smiling at him. He leaned in and kissed her on her uninjured cheek; she pulled him into a hug.

"God, that was just…" she muttered into his neck, unsure of what to say as she was still stunned by it all.

"It's alright now," he whispered, doing his best to comfort her. He was slightly relieved when she pulled out of the hug and kissed him. She took both of his hands in hers and looked at the flat.

"We should probably get this place cleaned up. I'll go see if Mrs. Hudson has a broom."

Sherlock helped her off the couch and she walked carefully over to the stairs, trying not to step on any glass. He walked over to the window and picked up his music stand that was slumped against the table. He'd managed to pick up a few things off the floor before Alexis came back up with a broom and dustpan. She immediately got to work sweeping all of the glass from the floor, filling the dustpan quickly.

"Could you get the garbage can, please?" she asked.

"Of course." He brought over the can and placed it next to her. She dumped the glass from the dustpan into it and continued with her work. He merely watched her in admiration as she quickly cleaned up the floor of the flat, soon feeling awkward and somewhat guilty that she was doing all the work. She'd just been unconscious; she should have been resting.

"Perhaps I should do this, Alexis."

"No, it's fine, Sherlock. I can do it."

"No, really I insist."

"Sherlock, it's-"

He made a move to grab the broom, but Alexis held it firmly and they ended up pressed against each other. She dropped the dustpan and loosened her hold on the broom, blushing bright red.

"Okay, whatever you like."

He picked up the dustpan and finished Alexis's work. She straightened up what she could on the table, not wanting to stand around doing nothing. He was just about to dump the last bit of glass into the garbage can when they heard multiple sirens coming down the street. Sherlock sighed and placed the dustpan on the floor.

"They'll be checking every flat to make sure no one is injured. I'll just go down now and tell them we're fine so they don't bother us later."

"Good idea."

He hurried down the stairs as Alexis walked over and dumped the remaining glass into the can. She looked around the rest of the flat, noting a few more things that needed to be picked up but could probably wait until morning. She turned around and looked at the completely shattered-out windows and groaned. It was going to get cold quickly.

"They don't want us leaving the flat, so you'll need to stay here for the night," Sherlock told her as he made his way back up the stairs.

She froze in her spot, unsure of what to say as she was stunned at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as Sherlock.

"Alright, no problem," she replied, hoping her voice wasn't shaky.

Sherlock looked down at his feet, knowing very well what their sleeping arrangements would be and feeling slightly apprehensive as to how Alexis was feeling about it. "Of course, you'll have to stay in my room. John won't be coming back tonight, but his windows are most likely smashed as well. If you're not comfortable with this, I'm sure other arrangements could be made. I could just stay out here-"

"Oh god no, Sherlock! It's freezing! The arrangements are fine as they are. In fact, I'm getting pretty tired so I think I'll just turn in right now if that's alright."

"Yes, that's fine."

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest as they made their way back to his bedroom. Everything was still in place which pleased them both. Alexis sat down on his bed and removed her shoes, then looked up at him.

"I suppose I'll turn in as well," he said, surprising himself. He wasn't at all tired, but he didn't want to leave her.

"A-alright then." She mentally kicked herself for stuttering. She was failing at trying to keep calm about sleeping in the same bed as Sherlock. However, he was feeling exactly the same way which would have helped her had she known.

He took off his robe and hung it in his wardrobe, slowly shutting the door and going back to sit down beside Alexis. She took off her black sweater, leaving her in a white tank-top and jeans. He looked at her as she did this, and suddenly felt a strange feeling emanating from between his legs. He shrugged it off as she lay down on the far side of the bed.

"Are you going to be comfortable in what you're wearing?" he asked, immediately regretting the question. What was she supposed to do? Take her jeans off? He started to feel that strange sensation again and gritted his teeth in his closed mouth.

"I'll be fine," she calmly responded, secretly freaking as she realized what he implied but knew he meant well. They got under the covers and Sherlock flicked the switch on the wall, leaving them both in the dark.

"Thank you for letting me stay," Alexis said, turning so that she was on her right side facing him. He lay flat on his back with his head turned towards her.

"Of course. How could I not?"

She leaned forward and propped herself up on her elbow so she could kiss him softly on the lips. "Good night."

"Good night."

She started to move back to her side, but suddenly felt a spark of confidence arise in her and she asked, "Would you mind if I stayed close?"

His breath hitched at the sound of her question. "How do you mean?"

"Like this."

She laid her head on his chest and brought her arm to lay across his abdomen. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hoping she couldn't feel his heart race; though, with her head where it was, that was almost impossible.

"That's fine," was all he managed to say. He lay there with his eyes wide, feeling overwhelmed by her proximity and the fact that they were both in his bed. The feeling between his legs was so intense that once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he looked down beyond her arm to find a rise in the sheet where his crotch was. He panicked, hoping that she wouldn't notice. He was ashamed by this, though underneath that shame he still felt pleasure. Pleasure that he had his girlfriend close to him and that she was alright despite the events of that night. Just as well, he couldn't help but be attracted to her as she only wore a tank-top. Thinking of this, his erection grew even more and he had to shrug the thought from his mind completely. He had too much respect for her, and he didn't want her to be disgusted with him. He simply kissed the top of her head and lay there until he was able to fall asleep.

Alexis smiled when he kissed her head, and found herself mouthing the words "I love you" before she drifted off to sleep…

* * *

March 31, 2011

Sherlock woke up early the next morning, his mind immediately racing to work once he remembered what took place the night before. He went to move from his bed before he remembered Alexis was there, lying on his chest with her arm wrapped around him.

With painstaking slowness, he moved her arm from his waist and moved her over onto her back on the other side of the bed. He exhaled silently when she didn't wake up, then moved back to his wardrobe to get fresh clothes for the day. He chose a thicker suit than he'd usually worn, noting how cold it would be in the living room, and picked his purple shirt to wear. Creeping into the bathroom that led directly from the bedroom, he dressed and groomed himself as quietly as he could, not wanting to wake Alexis. When he finished, he walked out and briefly watched her as she slept. She'd turned onto her side and was facing him, her hair blocking much of her face. He smiled slightly and walked out into the kitchen.

Sherlock walked over to the windows and looked out at the street. There were police cars and ambulances lined up along the whole way. A crowd had formed around the explosion area, and police had to barricade them from coming near it. He rolled his eyes at the ridiculous curiosity of people and went into the kitchen to prepare coffee.

Alexis woke up to the smell of coffee and an empty bed. She slowly sat up and remembered what had happened the night before, smiling as she thought of how close she was to Sherlock. She went into the bathroom to attempt to make herself look presentable, settling after running her fingers through her hair a few times. She grabbed her sweater and pulled it over her head, fixing her hair once more before she went out to the kitchen.

"Morning," Sherlock greeted, pouring her a cup of coffee and handing it to her.

"Morning," she replied, kissing him as she took the cup and walked into the living room, settling on the couch. He poured himself a cup and grabbed a few sugar packets before joining her.

"Do you feel any better?" he asked her.

"Yes, thank you." She gripped the cup with both hands, taking a sip and loving the warmth.

Sherlock went to say something else, but he was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. He sighed.

"The police had better not be bothering us," he complained, setting down his cup and walking down the stairs. He expected to find a man in uniform when he opened the door, but instead found his brother Mycroft standing there.

"Morning, brother," Mycroft greeted, flashing him that smug smile he couldn't stand. "Everything turn out well last night?"

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you Mycroft?" Sherlock retorted.

He pointed his umbrella past him and into the flat. "May I come in? Or would you prefer I wait until Alexis has drunk her coffee and was on her merry way?"

"I'm not entirely sure she'd be pleased with seeing you, so I think it would be best if you just left, don't you?"

Mycroft stepped past him and into the flat. "Unfortunately, Sherlock, I have something important I need to discuss with you. It can't wait. Shall we?"

Sherlock walked past him and up the stairs, Mycroft following close behind. Alexis noted the two sets of footsteps coming up the stairs and nearly dropped her cup when she saw Mycroft.

"Good morning, Miss Gilmore," he greeted, flashing her the smile that always creeped her out. "Feeling any better?"

"Um, yes, thank you." Sherlock flashed her a look, silently agreeing with her dismay as he sat down in his chair. Mycroft took John's chair.

"I say, it was rather polite of Sherlock to allow you to spend the night, Alexis. If you don't mind me calling you Alexis, that is."

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Yes, it was nice of him. And Alexis is fine."

"Very good." He looked over at Sherlock, who had picked up his violin and started plucking at the strings with his fingers. "Now, dear brother, down to business. We have a national security situation that I need you to assist me on."

"And by 'me' you mean the government, of course."

Mycroft glared at him. "There was a young man by the name of Andrew West. He was a civil servant involved in a government program in a minor capacity. The Bruce-Partington Program it's called. He was found dead last night at the tracks at Battersea station this morning with his head smashed in."

"What a shame," Sherlock interjected, plucking a note. "Have you come to demand my sympathies?"

Mycroft rolled his eyes at him. "Not exactly. He had a memory stick in his possession, and on that memory stick was a copy of the Bruce-Partington plans. It wasn't on the body."

Alexis had grown extremely attentive of the story and walked over to Sherlock's chair, sitting on the arm of it.

"So it's missing? You can't find it anywhere?" she asked.

"Precisely. We need you to find those plans, Sherlock."

Just as he was about to respond, the sound of John's voice calling his name filled the room and he ran up the stairs. Sherlock plucked a note as he entered the room, Mycroft and Alexis looking up at him.

"John," he greeted.

"I saw it on the telly, are you okay?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

Sherlock looked confused, turning around to look at the windows that had been covered with plastic and it came back to him.

"Me? What, oh yeah, fine. Gas leak, apparently."

"Alexis, what happened to your face?"

She touched the cut in embarrassment. "Glass. It'll heal quickly, though."

Sherlock plucked another note and looked over at his brother. "I can't."

"Can't?" he asked, twiddling with his cane.

"Stuff I've got on is just too big. I can't spare the time."

John and Alexis exchanged confused glances, Mycroft noting it.

"Nevermind your usual trivia. This is of national importance."

He plucked yet another note but quickly silenced it with his hand. "How's the diet?"

Alexis stifled a giggle at this random question.

"Fine," Mycroft replied sternly. "Perhaps you can get through to him, John?"

"What?" John asked, walking towards the couch.

"I'm afraid my brother can be very intransigent."

"If you're so keen, why don't you investigate it?"

"No, no, no, no, no. I can't possibly be away from the office for any length of time. Not with the Korean elections so…" He caught himself before he could continue, and they all looked up at him with wondering expressions. "Well, you don't need to know about that, do you? Besides, a case like this, it requires…legwork."

"How's Sarah, John? How was the LiLo?" Sherlock asked.

"Sofa, Sherlock, it was the sofa," Mycroft corrected, looking at his pocket watch.

"Oh, yes of course."

John looked at Mycroft in disbelief. "How…? Oh, nevermind."

"Sherlock's business seems to be booming since you and he became…pals," Mycroft continued. "What's he like to live with? Hellish, I imagine."

"I'm never bored," he replied. Alexis smiled.

"Good. That's good, isn't it?"

He stood from the chair, holding a folder containing the details of case in front of Sherlock. He merely stared at him until he gave up, walking over to John and handing him the file.

"Andrew West, known as Westie to his friends. Civil servant. Found dead on the tracks at Battersea station this morning with his head smashed in."

"Jumped in front of a train?" John asked him.

"Seems the logical assumption."

"But…"

"But?"

"Well, you wouldn't be here if it was just an accident."

Sherlock chuckled as he cleaned the bow of his violin.

"The M.o.D. is working on a new missile defense system. The Bruce-Partington Program, it's called. The plans for it were on a memory stick."

"That wasn't very clever."

Sherlock smiled.

"It's not the only copy. But it is secret, and missing."

"Top secret?"

"Very. We think West must have taken the memory stick. We can't possibly risk it falling into the wrong hands." He turned back to Sherlock and Alexis. "You've got to find those plans, Sherlock. Don't make me order you."

Alexis moved to the chair across from him so he could hold his violin in playing position.

"I'd like to see you try," Sherlock sneered.

"Think it over," he concluded, smiling smugly at him. "Alexis." He held out his hand for her to shake, and she took it gently. He walked back over to John and shook his hand. "Good bye, John. See you very soon."

Sherlock began to play an awful note over and over again as Mycroft picked up his coat from the chair and walked out of the room. John and Alexis were relieved when he finally stopped and put down the instrument.

"Why did you lie?" John asked. "You've got nothing on. Not a single case. That's why the wall took a pounding. Why did you tell your brother you were busy?"

"Why shouldn't I?" He looked away, fiddling with the bow.

"Oh, I see," John said, smirking. "Sibling rivalry, now we're getting somewhere."

Alexis perked up at the term 'sibling rivalry.' It was a term that got to her very easily, enough to want to say something to John before Sherlock's phone rang. She exhaled and sank back in the chair.

"Sherlock Holmes," he greeted into the phone. He raised his head and smiled slightly as the person on the other end spoke. "Of course. How could I refuse?" He hung up the phone and stuck it in his jacket, getting up from his chair. "Lestrade – I've been summoned. Coming?"

"If you want us to," John replied, he and Alexis getting up simultaneously. Alexis was somewhat worried about her appearance and the fact that she wasn't able to brush her teeth, but decided to suck it up and chew gum on the way.

"Of course," he told them, grabbing his coat. "I'd be lost without my blogger, and my artist."

He smiled at them before turning on his heel and walking down the stairs, both of them following close behind so they could make their way to Scotland Yard.


	16. Chapter 15

_**Topaz16: Glad you got caught up with the story, amiga. And I'm glad you like her & I love how you observed that she's just right in her toughness; I'm glad I was able to achieve that as it was exactly what I was going for.**_

_**Cag21: As long as I have wonderful readers like you cheering me on, I shall keep it up!**_

* * *

Lestrade was waiting for the three of them on the first floor of Scotland Yard and he led them up to his floor, telling them more about the incident on Baker Street.

"You like the funny cases, don't you? The surprising ones," he said to Sherlock as they made their way back to his office.

"Obviously," was Sherlock's simple reply.

"You'll love this. That explosion."

"Gas leak, yes?"

"No."

"No?" Sherlock was surprised by this.

"No, made to look like one.

"What?" John asked, also in disbelief.

Alexis wasn't vocally questioning it but was curious nonetheless. They all gathered around Lestrade's desk.

"Hardly anything left of the place, except a strongbox," Lestrade told them. "A very strong box, and inside it was this." He gestured to an envelope with Sherlock's name on it.

"You haven't opened it?" Sherlock asked.

"It's addressed to you, isn't it? We've X-rayed it. It's not booby-trapped."

"How reassuring," he said, clearly not convinced. He picked up the envelope and took it across the room, holding it under a desk lamp and observing it carefully. "Nice stationary. Bohemian."

"What?" Lestrade asked.

"From the Czech Republic," Sherlock told him. "No fingerprints?"

"No."

"She used a fountain pen. Parker Duofold, Meridian nib.

"She?" Alexis asked.

"Obviously."

"Obviously," John echoed. Alexis nudged him playfully.

Sherlock took out his Swiss army knife and unfolded the scissors from it. He began to cut slowly along the fold of the envelope until it was open all the way across. Carefully, he peered inside to see what it held, and his face dropped when he pulled out an iPhone with a pink cover.

"That…that's the phone. The pink phone," John observed shakily.

"What, from 'The Study in Pink?'" Lestrade asked.

"Well, obviously, it's not the same phone, but it's suppose to look like- 'Study in Pink,' you read his blog?" Sherlock turned around and faced him. Alexis bit her lip while John's face held an expression of "he's going to kill me."

"Of course I read his blog. We all do. Do you really not know that the Earth goes 'round the sun?"

Donovan had walked into the room and snickered when she heard this. Sherlock glared at her as she walked back out.

"It isn't the same phone," Sherlock continued. "This one's brand new. Someone's gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like the same phone. Which means, your _blog_-" He narrowed his eyes at John. "-has a far wider readership."

He clicked the button on the phone and it opened a new message. The sound of five beeps filled the room.

"Is that it?" Alexis asked.

"No, that's not it," Sherlock replied, looking more closely at the phone. He held it out for the other three to see and on the screen was a picture of a white fireplace in an old, empty room.

"What in the hell are we supposed to make of that?" Lestrade asked. "An estate agent's photo and the bloody Greenwich pips."

"It's a warning," Sherlock said, looking straight in front of him.

"A warning?" John asked.

"Some secret societies used to send dried melon seeds, orange pips, things like that – five pips. They're warning us it's going to happen again. Now I've seen this place before."

Sherlock took the phone and walked out of Lestrade's office, the others following close behind.

"Hang on, what's going to happen again?" John asked.

"Boom!"

They went back to Baker Street and quickly went into the flat. Sherlock led them down the hall and stood in front of 221C, staring at it a moment.

"Mrs. Hudson!"

She quickly brought out her set of keys and Sherlock took them from her, fishing through them to find the one for flat C.

"You had to look, didn't you Sherlock? When you first came to see about your flat," Mrs. Hudson said.

"The door's been opened," he told her, finding the key and fitting it into the lock.

"No, can't be. That's the only key."

He opened the door and the all filed inside, leaving Mrs. Hudson alone in the hall in the middle of her sentence. She simply sighed and went back to her flat.

Sherlock slowly opened the door the living room, walking inside along with the others one by one. In the middle of the floor sat a pair of shoes; the only thing in the room. He started to slowly walk towards them, but John held out his hand.

"He's a bomber, remember."

This statement made Alexis nervous, but Sherlock still made the slow trek towards them. When he was a few feet away, he got down on his knees, then straightened his legs until he was in a push-up position. He leaned in closer, moving in inch by inch until the pink phone rang. Everyone jumped, and Sherlock rose from the ground and took it out of his jacket. He pressed the button.

"Hello?"

_"H-h-hello s-sexy,"_ came through the other line. Everyone was dumbfounded at this greeting.

"Who is this?" Sherlock asked calmly.

_"I've…sent you…a little puzzle. J-just to s-say…hi."_

Soon, it was realized that it was a woman on the other line, and she was crying.

"Who's talking? Why are you crying?" he asked softly.

She took a deep, ragged breath and continued. _"I-I'm not c-crying. I'm t-typing. And…this…stupid bitch…is reading it out." _She choked out on a sob.

"The curtain rises," Sherlock whispered.

"What?" Alexis asked him, extremely confused by all of this.

"Nothing," came his quick response.

"No, what did you mean?" John asked firmly.

"I've been expecting this for some time."

John and Alexis exchanged looks of confusion, and the woman continued.

"_Twelve hours to solve…my puzzle, Sherlock, or…I'm going…to be… so…naughty."_

With that, the line went dead. Everyone stood there silently for a moment, taking in what had just happened.

"What in god's name just happened?" Alexis asked out loud.

"Well, we're about to find out," Sherlock replied. He grabbed the shoes and headed out of the flat. John and Alexis did their usual dance of running after him, Lestrade in tow this time. He got a cab back to Scotland Yard while the other three went to St. Bart's so Sherlock could properly study the shoes.

Alexis was sat next to Sherlock at the desk in the middle of the lab while John paced back and forth, worrying about the woman on the phone.

"Who do you suppose it was, then?" John asked Sherlock as he looked through his microscope.

"Hmm?" he asked, not really paying attention.

"Woman on the phone – the crying woman."

"Oh, she doesn't matter, she's just a hostage. No lead there."

"For god's sake, I wasn't thinking about leads."

"You're not going to be much use to her," he replied coldly. Alexis looked at John sadly, but sympathetically. Once she realized the woman on the other end was in danger, she felt badly as well. She wanted to help as much as he did.

"Well, are they trying to trace the call?" Alexis asked.

"The bomber's too smart for that. John, pass me my phone."

"Where is it?"

"Jacket."

He looked at him in disbelief. Alexis gestured toward him, silently offering to get the phone herself but John held his hand up. He walked over to Sherlock and violently went for the phone.

"Careful," Sherlock told him firmly.

John rolled his eyes and looked at the phone. "Text from your brother."

"Delete it."

"Delete it?"

"Missile plans are out of the country now. Nothing we can do about it."

"Well, Mycroft thinks there is. He's texted you eight times. Must be important."

"Then why didn't he cancel his dental appointment?"

"His what?" Alexis asked him.

"Mycroft never texts if he can talk. Look, Andrew West stole the missile plans, tried to sell them, got his head smashed in for his pains. End of story. The only mystery is this – why is my brother so determined to bore me when someone else is being so delightfully interesting?"

"Try and remember there's a woman who might die."

"What for?" He looked up from the microscope. "There's hospitals full of people dying, Doctor. Why don't you go and cry by their bedside? See what good it does them."

The computer beeped suddenly, and Sherlock exclaimed in joy. Just then, Molly walked into the lab.

"Any luck?" she asked cheerfully.

"Oh yes!"

Another man walked into the room just as she did. Molly appeared surprised to see him, but even Alexis could see that it was a little game.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't…" he said sheepishly.

"Jim, hi! Come in! Come in!" Molly told him, waving him in. "Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes.

"Ah," he said, walking more into the room and up next to Molly.

"And, er…sorry," she said to John and Alexis.

"John Watson, hi," John said, nodding at Jim unenthusiastically.

"Alexis. Sherlock's girlfriend," Alexis said, earning a slight glare from Molly.

"Hi. So, you're Sherlock Holmes," Jim began, walking around to his right. He seemed very eager in his presence which made Alexis feel extremely awkward. "Molly's told me all about you. You on one of your cases?"

"Jim works in IT upstairs," Molly told them, though her attention was more on Sherlock. "That's how we met. Office romance."

As if on cue, Sherlock turned his head to face Jim and muttered, "Gay."

"Sorry, what?" Molly asked, her smile disappearing completely.

Alexis clapped a hand over her mouth rather obviously, struggling to stop the laughter.

"Nothing, um…hey," Sherlock immediately correctly, smiling politely at Jim before going back to his microscope.

"Hi," Jim replied, accidentally knocking over a Petri dish as he did so. He apologized profusely, everyone in the room now feeling 100% awkward. He picked up the dish and put it back on the desk, walking over to Molly. "Well, I'd better be off. I'll see you at the Fox. Sixish?"

"Yeah," she replied.

"Bye," he said to Sherlock, receiving no answer. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too," John said, just to be polite.

Jim left the room, and Molly immediately interrogated Sherlock. "What do you mean gay? We're together."

Sherlock looked up at her. "And domestic bliss must suit you, Molly. You've put on three pounds since I last saw you."

"Two and a half." She gritted her teeth, Alexis silently empathizing with her and fighting the urge to backhand him.

"No, three."

"Sherlock," John said, noting the rude comment.

"He's not gay!" Molly told him, her voice rising. "Why do you have to spoil-? He's not!"

"With that level of personal grooming?" Sherlock commented.

"Because he puts a bit of product in his hair? I put product in my hair!" John chimed in, trying to stick up for Molly now.

"You wash your hair, there's a difference. No, no – tinted eyelashes, clear signs of taurine cream around the frown lines. Those tired, clubber's eyes. Then there's his underwear."

"I'm sorry, his underwear?" Alexis asked in disbelief. She had to hear the explanation for that factor.

"Visible above the waistline. Very visible. Very particular brand. That plus the extremely suggestive fact that he left his number under this dish here. I'd say you'd better break it off now and save yourself the pain."

Molly looked at him with disgust and ran from the room, leaving Sherlock dumbfounded in his chair.

"Charming. Well done," John told him.

"Just saving her time. Isn't that kinder?"

"Kinder? No, no. Sherlock, _that _wasn't kind."

"Yes, and you never _ever _tell a woman she's put on weight," Alexis scolded. "Even if it _is _true. It's bad enough her boyfriend is gay as a biscuit!"

"Oh, come on, Alexis," John pleaded.

"John, you saw him. He's not exactly the straightest guy in the world."

He sighed, giving up.

Sherlock looked over at the shoes and pulled one closer to John. "Go on, then."

"Hm?"

"You know what I do. Off you go." He folded his arms in front of him.

"Oh…no."

"Go on."

"I'm not going to stand here so you can humiliate me while I try and disseminate-"

"And outside eye, a second opinion. It's very useful to me."

"Yeah, right."

"Really."

Sherlock looked at him with a firm gaze, one so convincing that John picked up the shoe and began to examine it.

"Fine. Oh, they're just a pair of shoes. Trainers!"

"Good."

Alexis leaned forward, resting her hand on Sherlock's shoulder as she listened to John's observations.

"They're in good nick," John continued. "I'd say they were pretty new except the sole's been well worn, so the owner must have had them for a while. Er, very '80s. Probably one of those retro designs."

"You're on sparkling form. What else?"

"They're quite big. A man's. But…But, there's traces of a name inside in felt-tip. Adults don't write their names inside their shoes, so these belong to a kid."

"Excellent. What else?"

John looked at them once more, then put them back down on the counter. "That's it."

"That's it?"

"That was amazing, John," Alexis told him. He smiled at her.

"How did I do?" he asked Sherlock.

"Well, John. Really well. I mean, you missed almost everything of importance, but…"

He held out his hand, and John gave him the shoes. His spirit had completely sunk, and the look on his face made Alexis want to run over and hug him.

"The owner loved these," Sherlock began. "Scrubbed them clean. Whitened them where they got discolored. Changed the laces three, no, four times. Even so, there are traces of his flaky skin where his fingers have come into contact with them, so he suffered from eczema. The shoes are well worn, more so on the inner side, which means the owner had weak arches. British-made, twenty years old."

"Twenty years?" John asked, amazed.

"They're not retro, they're original. Limited edition – two blue stripes, 1989."

"But they look so new," Alexis observed.

"Yes, there's still mud on them," John added.

"Someone's kept them that way. Quite a bit of mud caked on the soles. Analysis shows it's from Sussex with London mud overlaying it."

"How do you know?"

Sherlock gestured to the computer screen. "Pollen. Clear as a map reference to me. South of the river, too. So, the kid who owned these trainers came to London from Sussex twenty years ago and left them behind."

"What happened to him?" Alexis asked.

"Something bad. Well, he loved those shoes, remember? He wouldn't leave them filthy. Wouldn't let them go unless he had to. So, a child with big feet gets…" His voice trailed off when he had a sudden realization. "Oh."

"What?" John asked.

"Carl Powers," he whispered.

"Who?" Alexis asked him.

"Carl. Powers," he repeated slowly.

"What is it?" John inquired.

"It's where I began."

They went back to the flat with the shoes, and in the cab on the way Sherlock told them the story of Carl Powers.

"1989, young kid, champion swimmer, came up from Brighton for a school sports tournament, drowned in the pool. Tragic accident. You wouldn't remember it. Why should you?" He held up his phone to show them an article.

"But you remember?" John asked.

"Yes."

"Something fishy about it?"

"Nobody thought so."

"Except you," Alexis finished.

"Precisely. I was only a kid myself. I read about it in the papers."

"You started young, didn't you?" John asked. Alexis smiled at this thought.

"The boy, Carl Powers," Sherlock continued, "had some kind of fit in the water, but by the time they got him out, it was too late. There was something wrong somewhere and I couldn't get it out of my head."

"What?" John asked him.

"His shoes."

"What about them?"

"They weren't there. I made a fuss. I tried to get the police interested, but nobody seemed to think it was important. He'd left all the rest of his clothes in his locker. But there was no sign of his shoes." He held up the shoes and stared at them. "Until now."

An hour after they got back to the flat, Sherlock was sitting in the kitchen still looking through old articles. Alexis and John were in the living room, Alexis sitting in Sherlock's chair whilst John paced restlessly back and forth. After pacing for the umpteenth time, he went over to the sliding doors of the kitchen and opened them.

"Can I help? I want to help. There's only five hours left." His text alert went off and he looked at his phone. "It's your brother. He's texting _me _now. How does he know my number…?"

"Must be a root canal," Sherlock muttered.

John stepped into the kitchen. "Look, he did say…national importance."

He snorted. "How quaint."

"What is?"

"You are. Queen and country."

"You can't just ignore it."

"I'm not ignoring it. I'm putting my best man onto it right now."

"Right, good. Who's that?"

Sherlock looked up and flashed him a knowing smile. John exhaled.

"I'll go and change then."

When he went upstairs, Alexis got up from the chair and walked over to him. "Anything I can do? Should I go with him?"

"No, but I think it would be best if you went and had a shower. It's been nearly two days."

She ran a hand through her hair and looked down at herself, embarrassed. "Right. I'll just head back to my flat then."

"No need. You can do it here."

She raised her eyebrows. "Um, Sherlock, I don't have any of my shower things here…"

"The soap I use is unscented, and you can hold off on washing your hair until the morning."

She thought about it for a moment. "Alright then. Thank you."

"Of course."

He'd hardly looked at her through the entire conversation, but when he looked up at her and watched as she walked down the hall and into his room, it suddenly hit him.

He found himself slowly walking down the hall toward his room. Almost immediately, he heard the bathroom door shut and the shower start to run. When he made it to the doorway of his room, he listened closely and stiffened when he heard the faint sound of her clothes hitting the floor. The shower curtain was pulled back and she stepped inside. He looked down at himself and found yet another erection pushing against his trousers, much to his dismay. Taking a deep breath, he walked back down the hall and sat back down at his microscope. He had to focus; this case was extremely important.

About twenty minutes later, Alexis emerged from the bathroom. She pulled on her sweater and headed out to the kitchen to see what progress Sherlock had made, and was surprised to see that the shoes had been completely taken apart and each part of them were hung by a peg on a long string.

"My goodness, you're quick," she commented. He was sat at his microscope once again, thankful his erection had gone down.

"Hmm, hardly difficult process," he replied. He got up and grabbed a section of the shoe, placing it on the counter. "Hand me a dish, will you? Just there."

She looked down at the table and saw a box filled with Petri dishes. She picked one up and put it in his open hand, and he immediately began scraping the shoe part with a sharp instrument, letting the shavings fall onto the dish.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Examining the portions of the shoe where traces of his infected skin were found. Perhaps that will tell us something."

"Probably."

After five minutes of examining the shavings, he found nothing. He grabbed another part of the shoe and repeated the same process. Alexis went back into the living room and sat in his chair once more, knowing very well it would be a long night.

An hour later, John had come back from his meeting with Mycroft and was walking up the stairs when Sherlock finally had a breakthrough.

"Poison," he whispered, still looking through the microscope.

"What are you going on about?" Mrs. Hudson asked him.

"Clostridium botulinum!" he exclaimed, slamming his hands on the table and startling Mrs. Hudson out of the room. "It's one of the deadliest poisons on the planet!"

John merely looked at him questioningly.

"Carl Powers!"

"Oh wait, are you saying he was murdered?" John realized.

As soon as Alexis heard this, she shot up from the chair and nearly barreled into the kitchen.

"Remember the shoelaces? The boy suffered from eczema. It would be the easiest thing in the world to introduce the poison into his medication." He walked around the kitchen as he explained this to them. "Two hours later he comes up to London, the poison takes effect, paralyzes the muscles and he drowns."

"How come the autopsy didn't pick it up?"

"It's virtually undetectable. Nobody would've been looking for it." He had his website up on his laptop and started to type a forum post. "There's still tiny traces of it left inside the trainers from where he put the cream on his feet. That's why they had to go."

"So, how do we let the bomber know?" John asked.

"Get his attention. Stop the clock." He uploaded the post.

"The killer kept the shoes all these years."

"Yes." He turned and looked at him. "Meaning?"

John's eyes widened. "He's our bomber."

"My god…" Alexis's voice trailed off.

Just then, the pink phone rang, and Sherlock immediately answered it. It was the crying woman.

She told them where she was, and they wasted no time in calling Lestrade. He told them he would send a team for her.

"Thank god," Alexis said. She walked over to Sherlock and kissed him on the cheek. "Good job."

He wrapped an arm around her waist. "You should get home. You'll need to go back to work tomorrow."

"Do you think anything else is going to happen?"

"Most likely. We'll just have to wait for the call."

"Sherlock, who would poison a child?"

"Someone with reason to."

"But who in god's name would have reason to…wait, you don't think…?"

"The killer had to be around Carl's age when he murdered him."

She shook her head. "My god, I can't even…"

"I know. So we'll have to figure out more about the bomber. I'll be looking into the Carl Powers case more."

"Good." She reached up and kissed him on the lips. "Let me know if you hear more from him."

"I will. Good night, Alexis."

"Good night, Sherlock." With that, she left his flat and went home, going to sleep and preparing herself for what might come the next day.


	17. Chapter 16

_**I know this is kind of a shorter chapter, but I didn't want to jump right into the Connie Prince murder just yet! **_

_**TheGirlWhoImagined: That comment made my night! XD**_

* * *

April 1, 2011

Alexis begrudgingly went to work the next day. Ever since she started getting more involved in Sherlock's cases, work seemed more and more like…well, work. Sure, work was fun and she got to do what she knew and loved, but it didn't challenge her as much anymore. With Sherlock and his cases, you never knew what would come next.

Because of this, she was extremely relieved when Sherlock texted her around 3:00. She felt the vibration of the text alert in the pocket of her skirt, so she excused herself briefly from the tour she was giving to look at it.

**Come to Bart's if convenient. New case, new hostage. – S**

She felt bad for being so happy about this considering someone else had apparently been taken hostage. She finished up the tour and told her boss she wasn't feeling well, then left and got a cab straight to St. Bart's.

Sherlock was in the lab examining something in a Petrie dish when she arrived.

"Hey," she greeted, sitting beside him. "So what's going on now?"

"The blood of a man named Ian Monkford was found in a car he rented yesterday afternoon. This is a sample of it right here." He gestured to the dish. "It would be presumed that he was involved in some sort of horrible accident and that he's dead. However, that's not quite the case."

"No?"

He put a single drop of a liquid onto the blood sample, and immediately an odd reaction occurred. "No."

"Why is it fizzling like that? That can't be normal," she pointed out.

"It's not."

Just then, the pink phone rang and Sherlock answered it, putting it on vibrate so Alexis could hear.

"Hello?" Sherlock greeted.

"_The clue's i-in the name. J-janus C-cars." _This time it was the voice of a young man. The new hostage.

"Why would you be giving me a clue?"

"_Why does anyone do a-anything? Because I'm bored. We were made for each other, Sherlock."_

"Then talk to me in your own voice."

"_Patience."_

The line went dead. Alexis looked at the phone sadly.

"Poor guy. He's terrified."

"Understandably. The blood's been frozen."

"What?"

"You were right when you said this reaction isn't normal. This is a sign that this was blood that Ian Monkford himself gave a while ago and Janus Cars used it to spread on the seat."

"Wait, what are you talking about?"

"I did some research. Janus Cars is the company that Ian Monkford hired the car from. As well as renting out cars, they provide a special service that allows you to disappear if you have any sort of trouble. Money, bad marriage, for Ian Monkford it was most likely money troubles. He was a banker, after all. The amount of blood they found in the car was exactly a pint. Their first mistake."

"Wow. So this Monkford guy isn't really dead then?"

"No. He's in Columbia."

"Columbia?"

"We went to interview a Mr. Ewart of Janus Cars today, and there were clear signs that he'd been to Columbia settling Ian Monkford into his new life. In his wallet, he had a 20,000 Columbian peso note. He had a tan line around his neck which he said was from a sun bed, but no one wears a shirt on a sun bed. He was also scratching at his arm and it was bleeding so it appeared that he had a booster shot done recently."

Alexis was amazed. "I can't believe you noticed all that. You're amazing." She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

"Hardly difficult deductions." He grinned at her. "We need to get to Scotland Yard and let Lestrade and John know that the case is solved."

They met John and Lestrade in a garage on the lowest level of Scotland Yard where Monkford's car was being kept.

"How much blood was on that seat, would you say?" Sherlock asked them.

"How much? About a pint," Lestrade told him.

"Not about. Exactly a pint. That was their first mistake. The blood's definitely Ian Monkford's, but it's been frozen."

"Frozen?"

"There are clear signs." He shot a quick glance at Alexis, and she smiled slightly. "I think Ian Monkford gave a pint of his blood some time ago and that's what they spread on the seat."

"Who did?" John asked

"Janus Cars. The clue's in the name."

"The god with two faces?"

"Exactly. They provide a very special service. If you've got any kind of a problem – money troubles, bad marriage, whatever – Janus Cars will help you disappear. Ian Monkford was up to his eyes in some kind of trouble – financial at a guess, he's a banker – couldn't see a way out. But if he were to vanish, if the car he hired was found abandoned with his blood all over the driver's seat…"

"So where is he?"

"Columbia," he told them, slamming the driver's door shut.

"Columbia?" Lestrade asked, disbelief written all over his face.

"Mr. Ewart of Janus Cars, had a 20,000 Columbian peso note in his wallet. Quite a bit of change, too. He told us he hadn't been abroad recently, but when I asked him about the cars, I could see his tan line clearly. No one wears a shirt on a sun bed. That, plus his arm."

"His arm?"

"He kept scratching it. Obviously irritating him, and bleeding. Why? Because he'd recently had a booster jab. Hep-B, probably. Difficult to tell at that distance. Conclusion – he'd just come back from settling Ian Monkford into his new life in Columbia. Mrs. Monkford cashes in the life insurance, and she splits it with Janus Cars."

"Mrs. Monkford?" John asked.

"Oh yes, she's in on it, too. Now go and arrest them, Inspector, that's what you do best. We need to let our friendly bomber know that the case is solved." He, John, and Alexis began to walk out of the garage and towards the elevator. "I am on fire!"

Night had begun to fall when they returned to the flat, and they all immediately sat down at the living room table while Sherlock typed up a new post to his website. Not five seconds later did they receive a call on the pink phone. Sherlock put it on speaker again.

"_He says you can come and fetch me. Help! Help me please!"_

He told Sherlock where he was, and once more they called Lestrade to go save the hostage. When Sherlock hung up the phone, he smiled at Alexis and John.

"Well thank god for that," John said.

"Definitely," Alexis added. "Once again, Sherlock, well done."

"Thank you, but now we just have to wait for his next call. If he keeps his pattern, it'll be tomorrow morning."

"I'll stick around for it. I have the weekend off, anyway," she told him. He nodded.

John cleared his throat and got up from his chair. "Well, I think I'm going to get a bite to eat with Sarah."

"Fine," Sherlock told him.

"Bye John," Alexis said. He smiled and waved before disappearing down the stairs, leaving Alexis and Sherlock sitting at the table.

"I suppose you're hungry as well," he told her.

"A bit, yeah. I haven't had much of anything today."  
"Shall we order takeaway?"

"Sure. Chinese alright? They're right down the road, and I'm starving."

"Very well. You can make the call."

Alexis called them and ordered, and less than twenty minutes later they were back at the table eating their dinner. The whole time she was eating, she kept thinking of something that John had said the previous day and it nagged at her brain.

"What is it?"

Alexis looked over at Sherlock with confusion. "What is what?"

"Clearly you've been wanting to say something to me for the past ten minutes. You keep glancing at me as you eat. If you have something you want to say, please say it."

She quickly took a bit of her lo mein before continuing. "I just keep thinking about what John said yesterday with the whole 'sibling rivalry' thing. I'm not sure why."

"Oh, yes. I noted your reaction. It would seem that you sympathize."

"Well, I do." She took a deep breath, knowing she was about to get personal about a very touchy subject for the both of them. "Things were never perfect between me and my sister. Our whole lives, we tried to impress our dad in our own ways. When he died…we were just left sort of resenting each other."

"Which is why you haven't spoken to her in nearly four years." He softened his tone.

"The last time I saw or spoke to Abigail was our grandmother's funeral. I was already heartbroken, and seeing her after so long just mustered up so many more painful memories. As you can imagine, things didn't go over well."

"Why are you telling me this?"

She looked into his eyes and leaned forward on the table. "Because I know things with you and Mycroft aren't perfect, and I can relate completely. I don't know exactly why things are the way they are with you two, and you don't have to tell me why, but I just want you to know I understand. It really sucks."

"So you can…sympathize with me?" he said, saying it as a question although he already knew the answer.

"Yes. And John doesn't seem to understand that, apparently. I mean, I know he has a brother-"

"Sister."

"He has a sister as well?"

"No, just a sister."

"Well then why did you say he had a brother?"

"When I first met him, there were clear signs that he had a brother who was an alcoholic that was getting a divorce. However, the signs that showed that 'Harry' was a man also turned out to be valid for him to be a woman. Harriet."

"Ohhhhhh, I see. Harry is…a lesbian."

"Precisely."

"Hmm, well I'm not sure how that relationship is going, but anyway."

He didn't say anything after that, so Alexis continued to eat her dinner. Sherlock picked at the small dish he got for himself, taking small bites but not actually eating very much. Alexis had been completely honest with him just then, and he wasn't sure how to react. Thinking about his relationship with Mycroft was very unpleasant, but knowing that she went through the same thing somehow made it…easier. Knowing that he wasn't alone in that sense made him feel better in a way. _She _made him feel better. He reached across the table and took her hand in his, surprising her as she was in mid-bite. She quickly sucked up the rest of the noodles, and he kissed the back of her hand. She smiled, not saying a word.

They finished their meal, and Sherlock walked her down to the door. Before she went out onto the street, he pulled her into an embrace, holding her to him tightly. She smiled into his shoulder and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck. He pulled away and kissed her passionately, threading his fingers through her hair and only pulling away for a breath.

"Meet us at the café in the morning," he told her, referring to Speedy's next door.

"Of course."

They kissed once more and he watched her until she got into the cab and drove off. He shut the door and leaned against the back of it, staring at the ceiling. His affection for her was growing, and not in the way as it did when she spent the night with him. A feeling deep inside his heart was growing, and he hadn't a clue what it could be.

Just before she went to sleep that night, Alexis lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling. Not being able to tell Sherlock her true feelings for him was torture, and she found herself repeatedly wiping away tears as she drifted off to sleep...


	18. Chapter 17

_**Alexis and John get to do some bonding in this one. : )**_

_**TheGirlWhoImagined: Wow, that sums it up perfectly but it's still really sad. I hope things get better!**_

_**Amirizar2003: I think it's fear with Alexis and inability with Sherlock because he doesn't even realize it's love yet.**_

_**Cag21: Thank **_**you **_**for your kind reviews! I'll keep on it!**_

_**Topaz16: That makes perfect sense actually! I mean, this is new for the both of them, so it is high school-ish. And more mature, as you said.**_

* * *

April 2, 2011

The three of them met at Speedy's the next morning for breakfast, and John was practically shoveling his food into his mouth. The two cases had really gotten to him; emotionally and physically.

"Feeling better?" Sherlock asked John.

"To be honest, we've hardly stopped for a breath since this thing started," he replied, taking another bite. "Has it occurred to you-?"

"Probably."

"No, has it occurred to you that the bomber's playing a game with you? The envelope, breaking into the other flat, the dead kid's shoes – it's all meant for you."

"Yes, I know."

Alexis stopped eating for a moment, physically sick at the thought of this maniac targeting him.

"Is it him then?" John continued. "Moriarty?"

"Perhaps."

"Wait, Moriarty? Moriarty as in the name that the serial killer gave you when he was dying? _That _ Moriarty?" Alexis asked frantically.

"It would seem so," Sherlock told her calmly. She pushed away her plate, no longer hungry.

Just then, the pink phone beeped and a picture message came up on it. Sherlock slid the bar to open it and he gave the phone a puzzled look. He turned it around to show John, as it was a picture of a woman he'd never seen before.

"That could be anybody."

"Well, it could be, yeah. Lucky for you, I've been more than a little unemployed."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, lucky for you, Mrs. Hudson and I watch far too much telly."

He got up to go turn on the television in the corner of the room, and Alexis turned the phone back around to get a better look at the woman. Immediately, she recognized her.

"Oh my god, that's Connie Prince."

"Who?" Sherlock asked her, attentive.

"Connie Prince, she has a makeover show on T.V. Er, well, she _had _a makeover show on T.V."

"Had?"

Right on cue, John turned the T.V. onto the channel where Connie Prince was being discussed, but the pink phone rang and Sherlock answered it. Alexis listened as closely as she could, as he didn't have it on speaker due to them being in a public place.

"Hello?"

"_This one…is a bit…defective. Sorry. She's blind. This is…a funny one. I'll give you…twelve hours._"

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"_I-I like…to watch you…dance."_

The line went dead. From what Alexis could make out, it sounded like an old woman. Her heart sank. Sherlock shook his head at John, then turned around to watch the news report of the "sudden" death of Connie Prince. He now understood what Alexis meant.

* * *

"Connie Prince, 54, she had one of those makeover shoes on the telly," Lestrade told them as they entered the morgue. Her body was out on a slab, ready for Sherlock to examine.

"But didn't the T.V. say that she was only 48?" Alexis asked him. He looked at her as if trying to be polite, but after a moment she realized that was a very naïve statement. "Right. Carry on."

"Did you ever see it?" he asked Sherlock.

"No."

"Very popular, she was going places."

"Not anymore. So, dead two days. According to one of her staff, Raoul de Santos, she cut her hand on a rusty nail in the garden. Nasty wound. Tetanus bacteria enters the bloodstream, good night, Vienna."

"I s'pose," John said, leaning down to examine the wound on her hand.

"Something's wrong with this picture."

"Eh?" Lestrade asked.

"Can't be as simple as it seems, otherwise the bomber wouldn't be directing us towards it. Something's wrong." He leaned down and took out his magnifier, examining the wound closely then looking up her arm and all the way up to her forehead. "John? Cut on her hand, it's deep. Would have bled a lot, right?"

"Yeah."

"But the wound's clean. Very clean, and fresh." He closed the magnifier and stood up. "How long would the bacteria have been incubating inside her?"

"Uh, eight, ten days."

He smirked and stood up, walking over to John and Alexis. Something inside them both clicked and they perked up.

"The cut was made later," John said.

"After she was dead," Alexis added.

"Must have been. The only question is, how did the tetanus enter the dead woman's system?" He turned to face them completely. "You want to help, right?"

"Of course."

"Yes!"

"Connie Prince's background – family history, everything, give me data."

"Right."

"We're on it."

Alexis and John rushed out of the morgue, initially eager to help. When they reached the street, however, Alexis put her hand on John's arm to stop him.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"We need to figure out what the hell we're going to do here, John. I mean, we just rushed out of there like a bunch of eager school children but we don't even know how to go about this."

He sighed. "Right. Let's just stop and think for a minute. How do we get the information we need and know for sure that it's accurate?"

They mused over this question for a moment, then Alexis nearly jumped in excitement when she figured it out. "We go straight to the source!"

"How do you mean? Connie Prince herself is dead."

"Yes, but her brother isn't!"

"Brother?"

"Yes, John! The news report said she and her brother shared a house, plus he's been on her show countless times."

"Oh, right. So, you're suggesting we go to him and ask him all about his dead sister? I'm not sure he'd go for that Alexis, especially considering we're just two random people off the street."

"Well, then let's pretend not to be. We can tell him we're reporters. I'm positive that a guy like Kenny Prince will eat that right up and let us in. What could it hurt?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Alright, good. But where does he live exactly?"

"Somewhere in Hampstead. I don't know the exact house number, but I'm sure a little searching on the internet will tell us. I'm sure some 'dedicated' fans out there have managed to track down her house."

"Well then, let's hail a cab," he told her, walking towards the road. "Taxi!"

Hampstead was five miles from the hospital, which was plenty of time for Alexis to look up where Connie Prince's precise residence was. Within a minute, she'd found the house number on a fan site.

"Number 8. Got it," she said aloud, putting her phone back in the pocket of her plaid pea coat.

"Good, so we have an address. But what paper are we going to be from, Alexis? They could easily check and figure out we're frauds."

"We'll just make one up. Believe me, that family is all about vanity. Despite whatever grief Kenny Prince is going through, he'll suck it up for an in-depth interview."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm on the right track. That much I'm sure of."

They sat in silence for a moment, then John cleared his throat.

"I'm curious about something."

She turned her head to look at him. "What?"

"Well, if you don't mind my asking, how did you and Sherlock meet? He hardly ever talks about you."

She smiled. "No, I don't mind that at all. I met him at the end of October last year…when he was saving my life."

He raised his eyebrows.

"There was a man by the name of Alexander Russell. He had raped and killed three women in the last few months, and I was, apparently, going to be his fourth victim. He followed me, got all this information about me, and one night he cornered me on my way out of work and came this close to killing me. That is, until Sherlock showed up and put a gun to the back of his head. A week later, Sherlock showed up at the Gallery to make sure I was alright, though he didn't admit to that at first, and we ended up having tea after I got off work. And since then, we had tea once a week until we started dating."

"And that was the night he confronted that serial killer."

"Yeah. My worrisome nature turned out to be a good thing."

He smiled. "It's just a little strange to me, only because Sherlock doesn't seem to care for people in general. Obviously, you're different. Special, even."

"Thanks, John."

"Sure. So, what brought you to England anyway?"

"Brought me _back _to England."

"Back?"

"Yeah, I was born here. Lived here until I was five and then moved to Pittsburgh with my dad and sister."

"Not your mum?"

She pursed her lips and inhaled. "No, um, my mom died when I was four."

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. My dad said it was a good opportunity for his photography business, but my sister and I both knew that it was just so he could get out of London and away from the memory of my mother."

"I had no idea."

"I don't tell many people about it. But anyway, I graduated high school and got an Associate's degree at a community college there. I wasn't exactly sure what my plan would be after that, and then my dad was killed in a car accident."

"Jesus…" he muttered, his heart going out to this poor girl.

"After that, there was just no point in me staying in America, so I got into the Courtauld Institute of Art and moved back here. I lived with my grandmother until she died in 2007."

"My god, Alexis, I'm sorry. I can't even begin to imagine what that must've been like."

"I wouldn't expect you to, anyway. I usually don't dwell on it, either. I live for the present and future; kind of like Sherlock."

He smiled sadly at her, not saying anything else for the rest of the cab ride. This girl went through so much loss in her life, yet she could still be happy and hold her head high. He secretly hoped that Sherlock saw this as well and really admired her for it.

They pulled into Hampstead five minutes later, and they slowly made their way down to the Prince house.

"Okay, so, we just come up with a newspaper name on a whim and then after that…wing it?" John asked her. She nodded.

"I'll come up with the name, don't worry."

"How exactly are we going to be able to prove we're reporters? I mean, we don't even have notebooks."

Alexis pulled out one of her small notepads from her coat pocket and handed it to John along with a pen. "This is one of those moments where I'm glad I'm an artist."

He smiled, and soon they were at house number eight. They each took a deep breath and walked up the driveway.

"Remember – just be cool," she told him. He nodded as they approached the front door and he rang the bell. A young, Hispanic gentleman answered it.

"Can I help you?" he greeted.

"Yes, hello," Alexis replied, smiling. "My name is Alexandria Carson, and this is my partner John Harrison. We're from the Baker Street Tribune."

John fought to hide his smile.

"I'm sorry, the Baker Street Tribune? I've never heard of it," the man told them.

"Well, not many people have, really," John chimed in. "We're just a local paper from a small town just outside Cardiff. But you see, many people out there have a great love for Miss Connie Prince, and we were just wondering if perhaps we could get an interview with her brother."

"If it's not too soon, that is," Alexis added, trying to sound empathetic.

The gentleman thought about it for a moment, then opened the door wider. "I think that could be arranged. Please, come in."

Both John and Alexis exhaled as they entered the house, initially coming into a very white and clean kitchen.

"If you'll just wait here a moment, I'll fetch Mr. Prince for you," he told them, walking out of the room.

"Thank you so much," Alexis called after him.

"The Baker Street Tribune?" John asked her once the man was out of sight. "A bit obvious perhaps?"

"I don't think these people will bother to try and put it together, John."

Before he could respond, Kenny Prince strode into the room. He was wearing a shiny purple shirt and blue slacks, an outfit standard for him apparently.

"Hello, I'm Kenny Prince," he greeted rather dramatically. He walked up to them and shook each of their hands in a feminine fashion.

"Hello, Mr. Prince, I'm John Harrison," John replied, nearly forgetting to say his fake last name.

Kenny looked him up and down. "A pleasure indeed."

"And I'm Alexandria. We really appreciate you doing this, Mr. Prince, despite recent circumstances. We, and everyone from the Tribune, send our deepest condolences."

"It's much appreciated, Miss. Please, follow me."

He led them into an equally clean and posh living room, Alexis and John noting the rather hideous cat on the couch.

"We're devastated, of course we are," Kenny continued. He walked over to the fireplace and leaned one arm against the mantle, as if in a posing position. John sat on the couch and Alexis took a seat on the arm chair next to it.

"Can I get you anything sir?" the man asked John from the doorway. "Or you, miss?"

"Er, no thank you," John told him.

"No, thank you," Alexis said.

Kenny nodded at him, grinning as the man walked out. "Raoul is my rock. I don't think I could have managed."

Alexis quickly glanced at John when she heard the man's name. He flashed her a subtle agreeing expression and looked back at Kenny.

"You're very lucky to have him," Alexis commented.

"Yes, indeed," he replied, lowering his head. "We didn't always see eye to eye…but my sister was very dear to me."

The cat had climbed onto John's lap, making him extremely uncomfortable as he gently moved it away. "And to the, uh, public, Mr. Prince."

"Oh, she was adored. I've seen her take girls who looked like the back end of Routemasters and turn them into princesses. Still, it's a relief, in a way, to know that she's beyond this veil of tears."

"Absolutely," John said, still struggling with the cat.

"Mr. Prince, we were wondering if perhaps you could tell us a bit more about Connie herself," Alexis continued. "I mean, the public adored her, as you said, but no one really knew her deep down. In order to really properly portray her to the public, we want to know all about the real Connie. What was she like as a child? A teenager? A young…young-er woman."

"Of course. It is true, there was more to her than her television personality. She was a visionary, always has been. Even as a child, she loved to give little makeovers to our mum. God knows she needed them."

Alexis smiled nervously. This was going to be a long interview.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, after Kenny had told them non-stop about Connie's life, Alexis and John were mentally exhausted. Nothing he said seemed important to the case; he was just glorifying his sister.

"Yeah, it's more common than people think," John said, just after Kenny had discussed the events surrounding her death. "The tetanus is in the soil, people cut themselves on rose bushes, garden forks, that sort of thing…if left un…treated…"

All of a sudden, Kenny strode from the mantle and sat down next to John, placing his hands on one of his crossed legs.

"I don't know what I'm going to do now. I mean she's left me this place…which is lovely…but it's not the same without her."

John was visibly uncomfortable at this point. "That's why…our paper wanted to get the, em…the full story straight from the horse's mouth. And you're sure it's not too son?"

"No. You…fire away." He had a look full of lust, and it was all Alexis took not to burst into giggles.

John was about to continue writing in the notebook when he noted the cat meowing again. He reached up to scratch his nose but began to nonchalantly smell his fingers. Alexis stared at him as she did this, then reached up to pretend to scratch her upper lip. There was an odd smell on her fingers, no doubt the same one John was smelling. She looked at John, then back down at the cat, and then it all clicked in her mind. Both of them had touched the cat during their visit.

"Um, John," she said quickly. "Before you continue to ask Mr. Prince here questions, don't you think it would be a good idea if we brought in our photographer?"

"Our photogra-? Oh yes! Yes of course." He turned to look at Kenny, whose face was mere inches from his. "He's excellent with the camera, and I do think it would be a good idea to add some visual representation to the article."

"Well…I do suppose that would be an advantage, but unfortunately I'm not fit for it in my current ensemble. With all my grief, I'm afraid my fashion sense has fizzled."

"Oh, come now, Mr. Prince. You look lovely!" Alexis encouraged. "You are the brother of Connie Prince. You will always be beautiful to the public!"

He smiled to himself. "Well, that is true. Perhaps you're right. Bring in the photographer.

"Good! Excellent. So, John, why don't you go and phone him?"

"Yes, I'll go do that. Excuse me, Mr. Prince."

He walked off to another room rather quickly, obviously relieved to be out of close proximity with Kenny. He and Alexis sat there for a moment, an uncomfortable silence filling the air. She was somewhat relieved when he spoke up again.

"I take it you've seen her show before?" Kenny asked her.

She smiled politely. She had seen a few episodes, but wasn't a religious viewer like many. "Yes, I did."

"Take any advice from her?"

"Um…" She struggled to find a convincing answer. "Well, I incorporate a little bit of everything she's told the world into my appearance."

"Really? Because, if you don't mind my saying, your makeup isn't the proper color for your complexion and you're really not doing any justice for your eyes. And as for your hair-"

"I phoned him!" John said as he re-entered the room. Alexis exhaled, glad he came in when she was about ready to murder the other Prince sibling. "He was at the _hotel, _so he should be here soon."

"Great! He'll be here shortly, Mr. Prince. He's very prompt." She said all this through gritted teeth.

Almost ten minutes later, they heard the front door open and the sound of Sherlock's voice as he entered the house.

"Ah, that'll be him," John announced as Kenny fixed his hair in the mirror on the wall.

"Ah, Mr. Prince, isn't it?" Sherlock asked as he quickly walked into the room.

"Yes," Kenny told him, initially put off as Sherlock shook his hand violently.

"Very good to meet you."

"Yes, thank you."

"So sorry to hear about…"

"Yes, yes, very kind."

He practically pulled his hand away as Sherlock, John, and Alexis walked over to the couch and turned their backs to him, pretending to discuss the article.

"You were right," John whispered to him. "The bacteria got into her another way."

"Oh yes?" he said, a pleased expression on his face.

"Definitely," Alexis confirmed.

Sherlock pulled out a large camera from the bag he was carrying.

"Right, are we all set?" Kenny asked, turning from the mirror and posing against the mantle once more.

"Er, yes," John replied. "Shall we…?"

Sherlock went right up to him and started snapping pictures.

"Not too close. I'm raw from crying," Kenny told him.

"Oh, who's this?" Sherlock asked as the cat brushed by his legs.

"Sekhmet. Named after the Egyptian goddess."

"How nice. Was she Connie's?"

"Yes, a little present from yours truly." He picked up the cat and held it close to him.

"Sherlock?" John asked him, looking at the cat. "Light reading?"

He took out another piece of camera equipment, snapping pictures with a bright flash. The entire time, John pretended to be playing with the cat, particularly giving attention to its paws. Kenny was getting agitated and suspicious.

"Bloody hell! What are you getting at?" he demanded. "you're like Laurel and bloody Hardy, you two! What's going on?"

"Actually, I think we've got what we came for," Alexis said, raising her voice so it would be heard above the chaos. "Thank you so much, Mr. Prince!"

"What?"

"Sherlock, we've got deadlines," John told him.

"But you've not taken anything!" Kenny exclaimed as they rushed out of the house.

John laughed joyfully as they made their way back down the driveway. "Yes, ooh yes!"

Alexis smiled. "That was great! I can't believe we pulled that off!"

"You think it was the cat. It wasn't the cat," Sherlock told them, their faces dropping.

"What? Yes! Yeah, it is," John argued. "It must be. It's how he got the tetanus into her system."

"Yeah, Sherlock, it's paws smelled awful. Like disinfectant," Alexis told him.

"Lovely idea."

"No, he coated it onto the claws of her cat," John told him. "It's a new pet, bound to be a bit jumpy around her. A scratch is almost inevitable."

"I thought of it the minute I saw the scratches on her arm, but it's too random and too clever for the brother."

"He murdered his sister for her money."

"Did he?"

"Didn't he?"

"Nope. It was revenge."

"Revenge? Who wanted revenge?" Alexis asked.

"Raoul, the houseboy. Kenny Prince was the butt of his sister's jokes week in, week out. Virtual bullying campaign. Finally, he had enough, fell out with her badly. It's all on the website. She threatened to disinherit Kenny, Raoul had grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle. So-"

"Wait, wait!" John said, stopping him in the middle of the road. What about the disinfectant, then, on the cat's claws?"

"Raoul keeps a very clean house. You came through the kitchen door, saw the state of that floor. Scrubbed within an inch of its life. _You_ smell of disinfectant now. No, the cat doesn't come into it. Raoul's internet records do, though. I hope we can get a cab from here."

He walked off to the entrance of Hampstead, leaving John there agitated and defeated. Alexis put a sympathetic hand on his arm.

"It _was _a good idea."

He smiled slightly and they followed Sherlock out of the neighborhood.

* * *

"Raoul de Santos is your killer," Sherlock announced to Lestrade as he, John, and Alexis walked onto Lestrade's floor of Scotland Yard. He was carrying a large folder containing a large amount of information on Raoul. "Kenny Prince's houseboy. Second autopsy shows it wasn't tetanus that poisoned Connie Prince, it was botulinum toxin. We've been here before. Carl Powers. Tut-tut. Our bomber's repeated himself."

"So how'd he do it?" Lestrade asked him.

"Botox injection."

"Botox?"

"Botox is a diluted form of botulinum. Among other things, Raoul de Santos was employed to give Connie her regular facial injections. My contact at the Home Office gave me the complete records of Raoul's internet purchases. He's been bulk ordering Botox for months. Bided his time, then upped the strength to a fatal dose."

"Are you sure about this?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright, my office."

Throughout the entire conversation, John had been staring at Sherlock with a look of disbelief and anger. Alexis was just as confused as he was, but was still wary of how he would react to Sherlock.

"Hey, Sherlock, how long?" he asked him.

"What?"

"How long have you known?"

"Well, this one was quite simple, actually. And like I said, the bomber repeated himself. That was a mistake."

"No, but Sherlock, the hostage, the old woman, she's been there all this time!"

"John, it's-" Alexis tried to speak, but Sherlock cut her off.

"I knew I could save her. I also knew that the bomber had given us _twelve _hours. I solved the case quickly, that gave me time to get on with other things. Don't you see? We're one up on him!" He walked into Lestrade's office, the two of them following once John calmed down.

Sherlock typed up another forum post using Lestrade's laptop. The phone rang once it was posted, and he answered it without putting it on speaker.

"Tell us where you are. Address….No, no, no, no! Tell me nothing about him, nothing….Hello?"

The line had gone dead, but there was something different this time. Sherlock looked like he'd just seen a train wreck.

"Sherlock?" Lestrade asked.

"Sherlock, what happened?" Alexis asked again, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Sherlock lowered the phone slowly and placed it on the desk. He stiffened, and then everyone knew immediately what had happen.

The old woman was dead.


	19. Chapter 18

_**And this is where we reach the climax of our story! Break out the tissues! : (**_

_**But don't worry! It gets better by the end! Sorry if it goes kind of quick! I just don't have Alexis involved in the painting case and I didn't see the use of writing it all out.**_

_**Also, frequently I'm going to put up songs that remind me of the story or specific characters in my author's notes, so here's the first:**_

**Black Roses Red by Alana Grace**

_**Amirizar2003: I really enjoyed writing that bit : )**_

* * *

Sherlock hadn't said a word since the old woman was blown up. He was silent on the cab ride back to the flat, and still wouldn't speak as he sat in his chair in the living room. Alexis was worried for him. She'd never seen him like that before, and she wasn't sure how she would snap him out of it.

John was sat in the living room with them for a while, more concerned for Alexis's worry of Sherlock than Sherlock himself. He was still fuming about how he'd left the woman in her apartment the whole time, but kept it to himself so as not to upset Alexis. At one point, she looked over at him and gestured for him to leave the room. He nodded and complied, excusing himself to go up to his room. She then got up and went to kneel in front of Sherlock.

"Sherlock?" She laid a hand on his knee, and he looked down at her. Still, he said nothing.

"Talk to me, won't you?"

He exhaled and looked back in front of him.

"Sherlock, it wasn't your fault. You solved the case, and you tried to tell her not to describe him, but she-"

"But she didn't listen. She didn't listen, and now she's dead. End of story. Moving on."

"It's not the end, Sherlock, because you're obviously upset over this."

"Upset? Why would I be upset, Alexis?" He rose from his chair and walked to the middle of the room. "I've no reason to be upset! It's just another case that happened to end in the death of an old woman, possibly more considering she was blown up!"

"Sherlock-"

"But like I said, it's no bloody matter!"

"Sherlock, stop it! You're blaming yourself!"

"I am not blaming myself, Alexis!"

"But you're torturing yourself over what you could have done to stop it and there's no use in that! What's done is done! And I'm sorry it happened, but it's not your fault!"

"Oh, but you would love for me to think that, wouldn't you?"

She rose from the ground and walked over to him. "What?"

"You would just love for me to feel sorry for myself because I failed just once in this case. You would love for me to show some kind of sensitive emotion over the death of this woman because it would prove that I'm not just the machine that everyone makes me out to be. You would love to have some kind of proof to show that I am indeed human and that I care, but let me tell you something, I don't! I have no reason to care for any human being on this planet, as I have lived my whole life without such nonsense and I am just fine!"

"That's crap, Sherlock!"

"Is it? Or are you just worried that you've fallen into that circle? The circle of people I don't care about, which happens to be every single human being in existence!"

She was getting scared now. "What are you saying to me, Sherlock?"

"You're not an imbecile, Alexis. You can figure it out without me telling you."

"What are you saying to me, Sherlock?" she yelled.

"I'm saying that our relationship is pointless! No good has come of it, and no good will _ever _come of it!"

An eerie silence filled the room when he said this. Alexis stood there and stared at him, her eyes wide with heartbreak. She felt as though she could die at that very second, but instead a sudden rage filled her entire body.

"You mean to tell me that nothing that has happened between us meant anything to you?"

He stared at her, saying nothing still.

"Well then," she continued, acid lacing her every word, "you must be a terrific actor, because I could have sworn that you were at least somewhat happy with me. More so than you'd ever been, in fact! You mean to tell me that our relationship has meant nothing to you?" She was yelling now. "Well let me tell you something, Sherlock Holmes, our relationship has meant everything to me! Every second, even before I became your girlfriend, has been so amazing and special and extraordinary and I wouldn't trade it for anything! I know that this hasn't meant _nothing_ to you, Sherlock, because I know you! I understand you! And if you're going to just stand there and lie to my face then fine! It's done! But I think it would be a damn waste to end what we have between us because I love you!"

She hadn't meant to say it, but she did. She watched him as his eyes widened slightly, struggling to keep an expressionless façade but clearly shocked by what she'd just told him.

"You…you what?" he asked, shock and disbelief lacing his voice.

"I said…I'm in love with you, Sherlock," she told him in a broken whisper.

He stared at her for another moment, unsure of what to say. A frenzy of emotions welled up inside of him, and all he was able to say was, "Very well."

And that was when Alexis Gilmore's heart shattered. Two little words harmless by their own merit managed to break her heart as they came out of Sherlock's mouth. She stared at him as he walked calmly back over to his chair and sat down, staring at the fireplace. Tears began to well up in her eyes, and trying to fight them off was superfluous at that moment. Choking on a sob, she ran from the flat. Only when the front door slammed shut did Sherlock look up again. He walked over to the window and watched her on the sidewalk, crying her eyes out as she tried to hail a cab. When she finally managed to flag one down, she wiped her eyes before she got into it. Trying to be brave, Sherlock knew. And as he often did before, he watched as it slowly pulled into the street and made its way down before turning left at the corner and disappearing from sight. He turned around and found John standing in the doorway.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

Sherlock's face was expressionless. He walked by John as he headed for his room, not looking at him as he said, "You heard, didn't you?"

"Well, aren't you going to go after her?"

He said nothing as he shut his bedroom door.

* * *

Alexis ran into her apartment and slammed the door. She ran straight for her bedroom, throwing down her purse, keys, and coat as she went, not caring where they landed. As soon as she entered the bedroom, she threw herself onto her bed and began sobbing uncontrollably. She buried her face in the pillow and dug her nails into it, sinking them so deep that she probably ripped the cover. She didn't care, though. She didn't care about anything at that moment. Sherlock had broken her heart after she practically gave it to him, and the worst part was that he lied to her. She knew that much. He wasn't a machine; he was human, and he cared for her deeply. That made it worse than it already was. She didn't even bother changing her clothes, didn't bother getting under the sheets for that matter. All she could do was sob for the rest of the night until she drifted into a painful sleep.

* * *

April 3, 2011

Sherlock and John were up early the next morning, watching a news story about a gas leak in an apartment building in Yorkshire. A.K.A. case number three coming to an unfortunate end. John questioned Sherlock once more about Alexis, but he refused to talk about it.

"Old block of flats," John commented, leaning on his hand as he watched the devastation. "He certainly gets about."

Sherlock stared at the T.V. placidly. "Well, obviously I lost that round. Although technically I did solve the case." He turned the T.V. on mute, unable to listen to it anymore. Suddenly, he had a realization. "He killed the old lady because she started to describe him. Just once, he put himself in the firing line."

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"Well, usually, he…must stay above it all. He organizes these things, but no one ever has direct contact."

"What, like the Connie Prince murder, he arranged that? So, people come to him wanting their crimes fixed up, like booking a holiday?"

"Novel."

John sighed and looked at the T.V., gesturing to it when he saw Raoul being taken away by police outside of the Prince home. Sherlock was staring at the pink phone.

"He's taking his time, this time," he whispered.

"Anything on the Carl Powers case?" he asked, his eyes still glued to the T.V.

"Nothing. All the living classmates check out spotless, no connection."

He turned to face him. "Maybe the killer was older than Carl?"

"The thought had occurred."

"So why is he doing this, then? Playing this game with you. Do you think he wants to be caught?"

"I think he wants to be distracted."

John chuckled in disgust and got up from his chair, heading for the kitchen. "I hope you'll be very happy together."

Sherlock looked at him once he processed his comment. "Sorry, what?"

"There are lives at stake, Sherlock! Actual human lives! Just so I know, do you care about that at all?"

"Will caring about them help save them?"

"Nope."

"Then I'll continue not to make that mistake."

"And you find that easy, do you?"

"Yes, very! Is that news to you?"

"No, no you know what? It's not. In fact, I don't really care if you care about the victims. What I _do _care about is you caring about Alexis!"

"What the hell does that have to do with any of this?" His tone darkened.

"Nothing at all. But let me tell you something, Sherlock, that girl was the best thing that ever happened to you. I'm certain of that. You love her, and she loves you!"

"I don't love anyone, John. I never have. Even so, as I know very well that you heard, the relationship was pointless and no good came of it."

"Yeah, yeah you're right, Sherlock. No good came of it. You were only happy for two months with this girl."

He narrowed his gaze at him. "I've disappointed you, haven't I?"

"Oh, that's good. That's a good deduction, yeah."

"Don't make people into heroes, John. Heroes don't exist, and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them. You should also take into account that what happens between Alexis and I is none of your concern, and I would greatly appreciate it if you stayed out of it."

Just as John was about to reply, the pink phone beeped, indicating a new message.

"Excellent," Sherlock muttered. He opened up the message, and there were two beeps as well as a picture of the Thames taken from a rocky shore. "A view of the Thames. South Bank, somewhere between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo. You check the papers, I'll look online."

He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, then looked up to see John leaning on his chair with his head down.

"Ah, you're angry with me, so you won't help. Not much cop, this caring lark."

He started typing on his Blackberry, searching anything and everything that related to that stretch of land. John only stared at him for a moment, then decided that there was no point in his not helping. He walked over to the couch and started to look through the papers, silently hoping that Sherlock would come around at some point and that Alexis was alright.

* * *

Alexis was glad she didn't have work that day. There was no way she could fake happiness when she felt so dead inside. She kept replaying their conversation in her mind over and over again, torturing herself as she heard his words perfectly in her mind.

_Very well._

More tears welled up in her eyes. How could he be so cruel and dismiss her like that? She was so angry at him for that that she could smack him for it. Physically hurt him for putting her through this.

When she wasn't feeling as angry, she tried to rationalize the situation and look at it through Sherlock's eyes; to the best of her ability, anyway. She knew and accepted that he wasn't the most affectionate person on the planet. He wasn't usually cold and cruel, nor was he soft and cuddly. He was just right for her. She knew very well that the case was taking a toll on him, and the last thing she wanted to do was distract him by being needy with love.

However, she wasn't letting him off the hook by any stretch of the imagination. He didn't have the right to be as cruel as he was, and he would have to apologize for it if he ever wanted to speak to her again. She decided she would give him a week. A week to figure out the rest of this case, then to figure out what to do about her. And after that…well, she didn't really want to think about that…

The thought of having to leave him filled her with tremendous amounts of pain, enough for her to start crying once more.

* * *

Sherlock placed a fourth nicotine patch on his arm as he lay down on his couch. That day's case had been exhausting for him. Yes, he was able to solve it and the child that was taken hostage by the bomber turned out okay, but only just. He came so close to failing again and it sickened him.

This wasn't what truly got to him, though. As soon as he arrived back at his flat after Miss Wenceslas was arrested, all he could think about was Alexis.

She loved him. She was _in love _with him, but why? How could she feel this way after only two months of being in a relationship? It wasn't logical! Not just that, but she felt this way about _him. _She was the most caring and compassionate person he knew, and he was nothing like that. So how could she be in love with him? What did she see in him?

Despite what he'd told her, he did care for her. Very much. She was right about that. However, he didn't love her. He never loved anyone! In fact, you could say that Sherlock Holmes didn't know what love was! What he did know, though, that what he felt for Alexis was more than just a crush.

As he struggled to think up a solution to all of this, he'd closed his eyes so he didn't notice John enter the room.

"Four patches?" John asked.

Sherlock opened his eyes. "It's a four-patch problem."

"Ah, I see," he said, walking over to the table and sitting in a chair. "A four-patch _Alexis _problem, perhaps?"

He sighed. "Perhaps."

"Sherlock, I know you care about her. _You _know you care about her, so why did you say all those things to her?"

"I don't know."

"Is it so hard to believe that someone might actually care about you?"

"No. It's only hard to believe that someone might actually be in love with me."

His sudden honesty surprised John. "Sherlock-"

Sherlock straightened up on the couch. "John, you know very well that I'm not a compassionate or caring man. I am the precise opposite of Alexis, so why would she ever have feelings for me? It was bizarre enough when I discovered her mild affections for me…but to be in love with me?"

"Sherlock," John began, "Alexis is indeed caring and compassionate, but she's also very understanding. She knows that things like this don't come to you easily, and that there are obviously reasons for that. She accepts you for who you are. Also, you're not exactly cold as a fish when you're alone with her, are you?"

"Perhaps not."

"Not perhaps. Definitely. She sees a side of you that no one else in the world sees. That, combined with every other extraordinary thing about you makes her love you."

"But she'll expect me to love her back."

"I think if you go to her and apologize and tell her what you're telling me, she'll give you time."

"I know she would, but…" His voice trailed off, unable to say what he was thinking.

"But?"

He got up from the couch and scratched his head, pacing slowly around the room. "I'm not…I'm not certain that I'm _not _in love with her."

John smiled slightly. "Do you love her, Sherlock?"

"I don't know…"

"Well, ask yourself these questions: Do you think she's beautiful; inside and out? Does her happiness depend on your happiness? Would you do anything in your power for her, no matter how hard it is?"

Sherlock thought about it for a moment. In his mind, he answered yes to every single one of these questions. But was it true? Was he actually in love with her?

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I answered yes to all of those questions, but John, I…I've never felt this before! How am I to be sure?"

"I think…" He stood up and walked closer to him. "I think that you need to go to her, tell her how you feel, and let her decide for you. If you love her…you'll know it."

Sherlock smiled slightly, then frowned. "John, I was so cruel to her. How could I ever make it up to her? A simple apology is rubbish considering what I said!"

"Sherlock, you'll figure it out. I know you will. Just follow your heart."

He pursed his lips and ripped off all four patches, tossing them into the garbage can before heading back toward his room. John stared at him, mouth agape.

"What are you doing?" he called after him.

"Changing my shirt!"

"What, why?"

"Because…Alexis loves it when I wear the purple shirt."

With that, he shut the door so he could quickly change. John smiled, happy that his friend was in love.


	20. Chapter 19

_**Okay everyone! This chapter begins the MATURE CONTENT! From this point on, it will be interwoven in the story, and I'll be sure to let you know about it ahead of time. **_

_**P.S. Something random: If you want to know what Alexis looks like in her nightgown, watch the scene of "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2" where Lena and Kostos make up. Like I said, it's random, but it's an important detail to me. Plus, she looks lovely in it!**_

_**Another song to describe Sherlock and Alexis:**_

_**I See You by Leona Lewis. **_

_**(Picture it from Sherlock's perspective.)**_

_**Amirizar2003: Purple shirt of sex! XD I love it! And I love how quickly you reviewed the last chapter! Not even a half hour after uploading!**_

_**Topaz16: Not to worry, they definitely figure things out in this chapter.**_

_**Smithinson77: Thank you! And of course I have to mention the purple shirt! ;D**_

_**TheGirlWhoImagined: Ah thank you! How could I forget that? I'll bring it up next chapter I promise!**_

* * *

Alexis had managed to finally stop crying throughout the day. She was now curled up on the couch, showered and in her white nightgown, ready to watch an episode of Kitchen Nightmares when her apartment was buzzed. Sighing, she got up from the couch and walked all the way out to the front door to see who it was. When she looked through the peephole, she almost couldn't believe her eyes. It was Sherlock.

For a moment, all she could do was lean her forehead against the door and stare at him, but she straightened up when he started to speak.

"Alexis, I know you're standing at the door. I could hear your footsteps. I'd really like to talk with you. Could you please let me in?"

She took a deep breath and unlocked the door. Slowly, she pulled it open, and he took one step inside. He noted her face sadly.

"You've been crying," he said.

She shrugged. "Well, it's been a long day."

He looked down at his feet, then back up at her. He didn't know how to approach this, so he started off with something he knew best. "We had another case today."

This sparked her interest. "You did? What happened?"

"A man was found dead on the banks of the Thames; a security guard named Alex Woodbridge. He was killed by a hired assassin because he knew that the lost Vermeer painting being unveiled at the Hickman was a fake."

"I heard about that painting. And, what of this assassin then?"

"Tonight, he killed an astronomy professor who assisted Woodbridge in proving the painting was a fake. We confronted him, but he got away." He practically bit off the last sentence.

"But you and John are okay?" she checked, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yes. We were able to prove the painting was a fake, as well."

"Did they have someone strapped to a bomb this time?"

"Yes, but we only knew at the last second as I struggled to prove why the painting was fake. It was a little boy."

"A child?" She shook her head. "What a monster."

Sherlock nodded, gesturing farther into her flat. "Can we talk please?"

"What do you want to say?"

"Something I should have said a long time ago."

She stiffened. This could go either way. "Go on."

He cleared his throat, then began. "Alexis, I…I can't properly tell you how sorry I am with just words. I had no right to say those things to you. They were cruel, unnecessary, and I'm certain they must have broken your heart."

"They did," she replied, her voice getting shaky.

"I never, ever meant to hurt you. You were right when you said those words were a lie, because they were. My relationship with you has been one of the best, well, probably _the _best experience of my life. It's changed me in a way. For the better."

"Really?"

"Yes. Alexis…" He took a step closer to her, removing his gloves and stuffing them into his pockets. "You are lovely. You are the loveliest, kindest, most caring person I've ever met. You see the world so beautifully; in ways that I will never be able to. You're just amazing, I…I can't describe it in just words how I feel. I…"

He was really struggling now, but then she smiled warmly at him, and that was all it took to make him continue.

"Alexis, I don't want to lose you. I need you in my life. Without you, it…it all seems pointless."

She was struggling to hold back her tears. Tears of joy, that is. "Sherlock, I-"

"Please," he said gently, needing to finish what he had to say.

She tightened her lips in response.

"I'm sorry. I am sorry from the bottom of my heart. All I hope is that you can forgive me, because the truth is…"

He stepped close enough so he could lay a hand on her cheek. She couldn't help but let a stray tear fall, but he wiped it away.

"Alexis…I'm in love with you."

Her world stopped. For a moment, she forgot to breath, and her body responded to this by choking lightly on a sob.

"You are?" she asked him, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes, I am. I'm sure of that now."

She couldn't help but let out another light sob. She leaned into him and put her hands on his chest.

"Oh, Sherlock…I love you too!"

These words elicited such a happy reaction in Sherlock that he swiftly pulled her into a hug and kissed her passionately. She cried slightly into the kiss, happier than she'd ever been in her life. He wiped away the tears with his fingers and pulled away to look at her face. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, so beautiful that his passion overtook him and he gently backed her into the wall and continued to kiss her fervently. Her hands threaded into his hair as he wrapped his arms snug around her waist, and pretty soon their tongues were lingering in each other's mouths.

Their kissing grew more passionate with each exchange, so much that Sherlock started to feel a familiar sensation between his legs. He quickly pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, looking down at himself as if to will it to stop. Something like this would ruin the moment, he thought. That is, until Alexis put a finger under his chin and made him look at her.

There was something in her eyes, something he'd never seen before but it was intriguing to him. It was a mixture of trust, tenderness…and desire. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, silently communicating something that neither of them were consciously aware of. Whatever it was, though, it made Sherlock's need grow as well as his emotional love for her. Alexis was feeling this way as well, and then all at once they both knew what they wanted.

Sherlock leaned in and kissed her deeply, shedding his coat and letting it drop to the floor as he did so. Managing not to break the kiss, he picked her up like a bride and slowly carried her to the bedroom. As he kissed her, his mind was racing as to what exactly he should do and when. He wasn't completely ignorant of sex; he knew many things about it. However, he'd never actually done it in his life, and he was worried he wouldn't do it right.

When they reached the bedroom, Sherlock placed her back on the floor and backed her into her bedroom wall, kissing her once more. Alexis let her hands roam across his chest, slowly becoming more aroused as she felt each individual muscle. He was tone, but not bulky, and to her that was perfect. With shaking fingers, she began to unbutton his shirt. One by one, it slowly opened up and he pulled away briefly to let it fall to the ground. Her hands met his chest once more as she stared at him in admiration. He was beautiful, and she wanted more of him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him in to kiss her once more. His hands roamed about her back and waist, and in the midst of this he decided to take a risk. Slowly, he brought his right hand up her side and cupped her breast. Her breath hitched as she gasped into his mouth, and he pulled away to make sure it was a sound of approval. He searched her eyes, and she answered by smiling coyly. Staring down at his stomach, she moved her hands down from his neck and unbuckled his belt. She undid the button and zipper of his trousers and let them slide to the floor. Sherlock went to step out of them, but to his dismay, he realized he'd forgotten to remove his shoes.

"Oh, hell," he muttered, bending down to untie his loafers and pull off his socks.

Alexis giggled at his slight frustration and leaned against the wall as she observed the muscles in his back move beautifully. He quickly stood back up and pinned her to the wall, amused by her giggles and moving down to kiss her neck. She moaned at the new sensation, threading her hands through his curls in approval. Her eyes widened when she felt her nightgown move up her legs, stopping at her waist. Sherlock looked to her for silent permission, and she responded by kissing him softly on the lips. He slowly pulled the garment over her head and gazed lovingly at her body. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Her stomach was lean with the slightest hint of abs, and her hourglass figure was shaped beautifully. No visible flaws; just pale, freckled skin.

He looked up at her and smiled, his approval touching her heart. Their lips connected once more, and this time Sherlock lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He walked them over to the bed and lay her gently down on it. She stared up at him with loving eyes as he stood up straight, gripping the waistband of his boxers before sliding them off. She blushed as he revealed himself to her for the first time, noting his already prominent erection. As she stared at him, he was slowly growing more nervous. He was hoping she found him at least somewhat impressive; enough so that she believed he could satisfy her. Not being able to bear their physical separation any longer, she sat up and pulled his body to her, kissing his stomach just above his sex before pulling him down to re-connect their lips.

Alexis moved back on the bed to give him more room and got on her knees, wanting to be upright for what would come next. He took this as a signal to continue, and so as he kissed her, he moved his hands around her back and undid her bra clasp. She pulled her lips from his gently and leaned her forehead against his. He held the bra in place for a moment, searching her eyes for the answer on what to do next. She was visibly nervous at this point.

"Are you alright?" he whispered, stroking her cheek with one hand.

"Yeah, of course. I'm just…oh god." She played with the small hairs at the back of his neck as she struggled to find the answer.

"If you don't want to do this…"

"No! Oh god, no! I do, I really do. It's just…"

"Apprehension?"

"A bit. But…I want you."

He smiled and kissed her once more, sliding the bra straps down her arms and tossing the garment to the floor. They both kept their eyes closed for a moment, hers out of nerves and his out of not wanting to frighten her. She took a deep breath and pulled away, allowing him to open his eyes and reveal herself to him. He stared at her breasts for a moment, unable to look away as he marveled at how beautiful they were; at how beautiful _she _was. He moved his gaze upwards to look into her eyes, smiling warmly. Her nerves lessened and he scooted closer to her, kissing her once more and cupping a breast gently. She gasped once more into his mouth, and he took a chance and reached up to cup her other breast. He massaged them gently, pressing them into her chest and loving the feel of them in his hands. He moved his hands away for a moment to wrap them around her torso, kissing her as he laid them both down on the bed and put his weight on top of hers.

They kissed each other passionately, tongues lingering in each other's mouths and hands roaming everywhere. Alexis moved her hands against his back, deeply aroused by his erection pressed against her center. She reached down to squeeze his backside in a moment of confidence, making his lips falter briefly before he moved down to her neck. Her fingers returned to play in his hair as he abused her with kisses. He slowly moved down to kiss her shoulders, her collarbone, and eventually he pressed kisses in between her breasts. She smiled as he nuzzled his nose against the skin there, rubbing the back of his neck lightly. He briefly rested his forehead against her chest and took a deep breath, then kissed over to the left until he took a nipple into his mouth. Alexis moaned at the initial sensation, gripping his hair tightly. She gasped when he began licking around the bud, bringing it to an almost painful hardness. He repeated this process on her other breast, and by the time he was done she was practically whimpering with need.

Sherlock went back up to her face and kissed her tenderly, pecking her on either cheek before he continued. He kissed his way down her stomach, stroking her sides as he did so. When he reached her panty line, he looked back up at her to make sure he could proceed. She nodded weakly, and he pulled the garment slowly down her legs. Her nerves rose again; it wasn't the prettiest part of her body and she wondered what he was thinking. She looked down at him, and he grinned at her. Blushing, she lay back down against the pillow and exhaled. He kissed up and down her thighs, gripping them as he moved back up and became ever closer to her sex. He hovered his head over it, his breath ghosting across the surface. Alexis's breaths were coming in gasps at this point, and she could barely breathe when he placed a kiss to the skin just above her center. Moving down, he spread her legs gently and pressed a kiss to her clit. She moaned loudly, much to his pleasure, and he began to move his tongue throughout her folds. His head was down too far for her to grip it well enough, so she was forced to hold onto her sheets as he pleasured her. She could feel herself growing more and more wet. Sherlock loved this; he loved the taste of her. He felt her start to tense up, signaling that she would soon cum. After debating for a few seconds on whether or not he should let it go that far, he decided to end it with a kiss on the inside of each thigh.

He moved back up her body, kissing her every other inch of the way until he met her lips once more. He stared down at her lovingly, stroking her cheeks as he cradled her face in his hands. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he fixed himself so that he was properly positioned between her legs. This was the part that Alexis was most afraid of. She was a virgin, so she knew there would be some pain no matter how gentle Sherlock was. He was aware of this as well, and so he leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, "I love you."

A tear slid down her face that he managed to catch. "I love you, Sherlock."

He kissed her tenderly as he slowly slid himself into her. She whimpered into the kiss as the muscle broke, more tears escaping her eyes. He wiped those away as well.

"Alright?"

"Yeah," she whispered against his lips.

He gave her a moment to adjust to his size, having to adjust himself emotionally. This new feeling brought forth such overwhelming emotions in the both of them that for a moment they forgot where they were. Nothing mattered but each other. Sherlock looked down at Alexis to see if she still felt any pain, and the look of love she gave him was all he needed. He reconnected their lips and began to move within her. Slowly, he thrust himself in and out, developing a beautiful, steady rhythm. She put one hand to the back of his head and the other on his back, gripping him gently as he loved her. The pleasure and emotion of it all made her want to burst into tears, but it wasn't the place for it. Instead, she just returned the gentle thrusts with her own hips and held him close. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around his, her body tensing as her arousal grew. His was growing as well, and he had to cope by briefly tearing his mouth from hers to take a breath. He brought his face down to her neck, kissing it every so often as he breathed. Having her lips free gave way for more moans and gasps to escape from her mouth, becoming louder as her arousal slowly began to reach its peak. Sherlock brought his lips back to hers once more and kissed her hungrily as he picked up his pace ever so slightly, beginning to feel his own peak as well. They're bodies became hotter, breathing coming in gasps. Alexis was forced to rip her mouth from his for fear of her lungs exploding, and cried out once she reached her climax. Sherlock moaned into her neck as he reached his, collapsing on top of her as his body was limp from the immense pleasure he felt.

They lay still like this for a moment, catching their breaths and holding onto each other for dear life. Once he came around, Sherlock lifted himself off of her enough to look into her eyes. She smiled up at him sweetly, her breath hitching as she gently stroked the stray hairs away from his face. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers.

"I love you, Alexis."

"I love you, too."

He rolled over onto his back, bringing her over to rest against him. She lay her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight and never wanting to let him go.


	21. Chapter 20

_**The morning after..and then some.**_

_**Another song to describe Sherlock and Alexis:**_

_**A Thousand Years by Christina Perri **_

_**Amirizar2003: Gotta love the fandom. :p And thank you so much! It was my first time writing a full-blown sex scene and I'm so glad you thought it was beautiful! :.)**_

_**KilalaInara: Haha I wanted to add that little bit because it's a realistic thing that probably happens. Also because he was nervous and probably hadn't even thought of that.**_

_**TheGirlWhoImagined: I really worked long and hard to make sure I got it exactly right. Just take your time and you'll do just fine. The way you've written your Sherlock story so far, I've no doubt it'll be good. : )**_

_**Midnight Angel414: Thank you so much!**_

* * *

April 4, 2011

Sherlock was the first to wake up that morning. At first, he was confused when he didn't recognize his surroundings. However, when he felt a stirring against his chest and looked down to see Alexis sleeping there, he smiled. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and tightened his hold around her waist.

He'd never felt anything like had the previous night. It was physically and emotionally overwhelming. Before that night, he'd always thought of sex as just a physical act. And of course it was very physically satisfying, but it was more than that. He knew he'd loved her before they made love, but actually doing it allowed him to show her how much he loved her without words. It was beautiful. _She _was beautiful.

Alexis stirred about ten minutes later, finding herself waking up on Sherlock's chest. She looked up at him with sleepy eyes and smiled coyly.

"Good morning," she greeted, absentmindedly running her hand along his chest.

"Morning."

He moved them so that he was lying on top of her and kissed her deeply. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him close, kissing the side of his face as she did so.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, leaning up on an elbow.

"Very. You?"

"Exceptionally. I haven't slept this late into the day in…years, it would seem."

"Really? What time is it?"

"9:15."

She laughed, turning and burying her face in his chest as she did so. This endeared him, and he gently pulled her head away so he could look at her. "How do you feel?"

Her face softened to a serious expression. "Perfect. Beautiful, loved…lots of things. Good things."

He smiled. "While I can't vouch for whatever else you're thinking, I can tell you that you are correct on the first two qualities."

She smiled back at him, overwhelmed by the emotion of his words. Tears began to fill up her eyes. "Sherlock, I…"

"What?"

"I, um…god, I just, I love you." She sniffled and a tear fell down her face. "I'm sorry I'm crying like this, I'm just so overwhelmed. But I'm happy. I'm really happy."

"It's alright," he told her gently. He wiped away the tear and cupped her face with his hand. She took hold of it and kissed his palm.

"I love you too, Alexis."

She smiled and leaned in to kiss him, wrapping her arms around his neck as they assumed the same position they did before. He began to kiss down to her neck, mouthing her flesh as she gasped in pleasure. It felt as though he was going to continue down her body, but she stopped him when he reached her collarbone.

"Sherlock, wait." She grabbed hold of his shoulder. He looked up at her, somewhat confused.

"What is it?"

"Well, um, if we're going to…continue, I kind of need to use the bathroom before we do."

He cleared his throat. "Oh, right."

"And would it be alright if I put on your shirt?"

"Of course."

He moved to the edge of the bed and stretched his arm to grab his shirt. She sat up and moved next to him, letting the covers pool in her lap as he handed her the shirt. He couldn't help but stare at her exposed chest, and she blushed as she saw him do this. She kissed lightly and bounced out of the room. Sherlock lay back on the bed, still smiling.

She quickly went to the bathroom and was about to re-enter the bedroom when she spotted Sherlock's coat on the floor of the kitchen. Hating to see it lying there crumpled, and knowing he would probably curse himself for leaving it there like that, she picked it up and placed it on the counter. As she was smoothing it out, she suddenly remembered something very important. She dug through each pocket, sighing when she didn't find what she was looking for and running back to her bedroom.

"Um, Sherlock?" she asked.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. "Yes?"

"Do you happen to have the phone with you?"

"Yes."

"Where is it?"

"In my trouser pocket."

She quickly picked up his trousers and pulled out the pink phone, then sat on the phone and opened it.

"Good. Nothing new."

She set it down on the nightstand and lay down next to Sherlock. He wrapped his arm around her waist.

"I have the volume up on the highest setting. If the bomber contacted me, I would have heard it. But he's broken his pattern, so there's no telling when he'll call again."

"And there's still one more pip to go."

"Well, we'll have to be ready for it."

"I know you will."

She looked up into his eyes, resting her hand against his cheek. He leaned in close, ready to kiss her but scoffed when his own phone rang.

"Sorry," he muttered, grabbing his phone from his other trouser pocket and answering it. "Sherlock Holmes…yes, of course. I'll be there in an hour."

He hung up the phone and looked at her apologetically. "It's Lestrade. We have to interview the owner of the gallery."

"Of course."

She sat up and unbuttoned the shirt, handing it to him as he moved to grab the rest of his clothes from the floor. She allowed the sheets to rest in her lap once more and he stared at her, cupping her face.

"I'll come 'round tonight if I can." He kissed her on the cheek.

"It's okay, Sherlock. This case is really important."

"Yes, but so are you."

She smiled, her eyes roaming about his body. "You should get dressed."

He put on his clothes quickly, and she grabbed a robe and walked him out to the kitchen.

"You should call the Gallery. I imagine they won't be pleased that you didn't show up without calling first thing, and you should go in straight away," he told her, shrugging into his coat.

"I know, but I really don't want to go in today."

"You really don't want to get sacked, either."

"True. But if you didn't have to go interview this woman, I'd want to stay here with you all day."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "Likewise, my dear."

She reached up on her tip-toes and kissed him, softly at first but more deeply when she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved closer to him. He put his hand at the back of her head and massaged her scalp, eliciting a pleasing moan from her. He reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead against hers.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked out of her flat, fearing that lingering any longer would entice him into dragging her into the bedroom and ravishing her once more. He practically sprinted out of excitement out to the street and yelled for a taxi a bit louder than he'd wanted. He couldn't help it, though. He was happier than he'd ever been in his life. For the first time in a very long while, he felt alive. Like there was something to really live for in the world; and there was. He hailed a cab and took it back to Baker Street, wanting to quickly change his clothes before going to interview Miss Wenceslas. He hoped that she would give them the answers they were looking for, but he also hoped that the fact that he'd just had sex wouldn't be obvious to anyone.

* * *

Alexis smiled as he left the flat. She found herself twirling a few times in the kitchen before gliding back to the bedroom to get ready for work. Before she got into the shower, she called the Gallery and told them that the fire alarm went off in her building and that she was forced to vacate her flat for an hour; she made sure to mention she forgot her cell in her flat, as well.

Once she showered and was ready to head out the door, her phone rang. She picked it up, expecting it to be Sherlock or maybe Gwen but instead was met with an unknown number. Uninterested in answering, she put it back in her purse and put on her coat, walking out onto the sidewalk to hail a cab. She was about to raise up her arm when her text alert went off. It was from the same number that had just called her. She rolled her eyes and opened the text.

**It would be best to answer your phone.**

She furrowed her brow, extremely confused and slightly alarmed at what she'd just read. Right on cue, the phone rang, and she slowly brought it up to her ear with shaking hands. "Hello?"

_"Good news, Alexis. You don't have to go into work today!"_

The voice was extremely high pitched and giddy, and it was a man's. She looked around her trying to see if anyone was watching her, as right now she was officially concerned.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

_"Oh, I'm just a friend of Sherlock's. You know, your boyfriend? The one you just had sex with last night?" _

She scowled, anxiety welling up within her stomach. "Who the hell is this?"

_"Oh, you don't know? I've only been calling Sherlock for the past four days, though he's never actually heard me speak. If you know what I mean…"_

Her eyes widened, and she immediately backed up the stairs to her flat. "You're the bomber." She stepped until she was backed into the door, then had a frightening realization. "You're Moriarty."

_"Bingo! Very good, Alexis! Bet you didn't expect my real voice to sound like this, huh?"_

She was so frightened that she couldn't speak. He continued.

_"Any who, I'm guessing you're wondering why I'm calling you, huh? Well, I'll tell you. I'm planning something reeeeeeeally special for Sherlock, and I thought it would be perfect if you'd be a part of it! What do you say?"_

"Not a chance," she bit out, her voice shaking. She reached into her coat pocket to dig out her keys.

_"Oh, come on now! It's for Sherlock! I wanted to end this thing with a really big _bang, _if you know what I mean. And no, I'm not referring to the _bang _you gave him last night. No, this involves Sherlock getting to be the big, heroic boyfriend and save his pretty little girlfriend from imminent danger. Doesn't that sound like fun?" _

"I'm calling the police," she whispered, still unable to find her keys.

_"Oh, I wouldn't do that, Alexis."_

"And why not?"

_"Take just a quiiiiiiiick peak at your right shoulder, won't you?"_

She turned her head to the right and froze. There was a small, red dot from a sniper's rifle lingering on her shoulder. She felt tears burning to escape from her eyes.

_"Good, we're on the same page. Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully. A car will be pulling up to your flat any minute now. Get into it, put on your seatbelt, and sit there quietly like the good girl I know you are until you get to where you're going. Believe me, my henchmen aren't as patient as I am, so misbehaving the slightest bit will get you more than just a spanking."_

Just then, a black car with tinted windows pulled up to the sidewalk.

_"Your ride's here, milady. Oh, and one more thing, don't even think about trying to be sneaky and text Sherlock or call him and let him listen in on the commotion. No, I have this all planned out just perfectly. He'll just have to wait. Bye, now!"_

The line went dead, and a large gentleman stepped out of the car and held the door open. "Get in, miss."

She weakly nodded her head, slowly walking to the car and climbing in. The man got in right behind her and the car immediately pulled away. He took her purse and her phone from her, then handcuffed her. It was all she could do not to burst into panicked sobs right there, but she had to remain visibly strong. All she could do was pray that Sherlock would find her soon.

* * *

Sherlock walked along the Battersea railroad tracks, his mind going over the interrogation with Miss Wenceslas he and Lestrade had just conducted. Moriarty was behind all this. This faceless, malicious threat had organized all those crimes and kidnapped all those innocent people. But where was he? _Who _was he? All Sherlock knew was that this entire thing went deeper than just those separate, seemingly random crimes. He'd been able to piece everything together on his way to the tracks, to realize that this Moriarty wanted to do more than give Sherlock a game of puzzles to figure out. And to think it all had to do with the problem that started with his brother visiting his flat the morning of the Baker Street bombing…

He soon found John crouched down by the track where Andrew West's body was found, obviously perplexed by the lack of blood stains. He managed to walk within ten feet of him without drawing his attention.

"The points," he simply said, startling John into standing up straight. "I knew you'd get there eventually. West wasn't killed here, that's why there was so little blood."

"How long have you been following me?" John asked, agitated and confused.

"Since the start. You don't think I'd give up on a case like this just to spite my brother, do you? Now come on, we've got a bit of burglary to do."

He started to walk off, John running up beside him. They walked not ten feet before he became unbearably curious.

"You didn't come back to the flat last night."

"Obviously."

"How did things go with Alexis? Are the two of you back together?"

"For us to be back together, John, we would have had to be apart in the first place. Which we weren't. And yes, things went just fine."

John was silent for a moment, then he smiled when he realized what he was referring to. "Ah, I see. So you two…"

Sherlock shot him a quick look, then looked back forward and continued walking. John's smile grew bigger.

"Well, that's great, mate. I'm happy for you."

Sherlock still remained silent, but turned his head slightly to give way to the smile he'd been trying to hide.

* * *

Alexis didn't know how long she'd been there, but she knew it had to be at least twelve hours. They'd arrived at the Y.M.C.A. soon after she was taken away in the car, then they brought her in and locked her in the locker room. She'd fallen asleep a few times, only to be woken by one of the henchmen slamming his fist against the locker and screaming at her to wake up. After each time this happened, she would cry bitter and fearful tears. She was afraid she would die here.

At night, one of the henchmen came into the locker room with an earpiece and her coat that they'd taken from her hours before.

"Put these on," he instructed.

She stood up and quickly put in the earpiece, then nearly dropped her coat when he handed it to her. It was extremely heavy, and when she opened it up to find out why she nearly screamed. There was a large bomb now attached to the inside of it, and she realized that she was the final hostage of Moriarty's sick game.

"Put it on now," he told her, his voice getting louder. She put her arms in the sleeves and he zipped it up until it reached her neck. "Wait here until he tells you to come out."

He walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. She silently wondered what the earpiece was for until she suddenly heard a familiar voice in her ear.

_"It's 10:00 now, Alexis. Two hours to show time." _His voice was giddy and eager, and it made her sick.

_"I know you've been missing Sherlock terribly, but when midnight comes around you'll get to see him. Out by the pool actually! However, I'm afraid the two of you won't have time for a romantic swim. Sorry."_

It was silent after that. She didn't know exactly what would happen when midnight came around, but she just hoped that Sherlock would be okay.


	22. Chapter 21

_**Major plot twist people! Try not to hate me! **_

_**Also, I'm not exactly sure where "the pool" is located, so I just had it set in the Y.M.C.A.**_

_**AAAAAAAAND, my internet was out all last night and this morning so sorry I didn't update as soon as I could haha! Not that it was an incredibly long wait anyway.**_

_**Midnight Angel414: That comment meant so much to me! I'm glad you were able to figure out that this was where it was going (not that it's a far stretch) and that you like it & it fits! Gah thank you!**_

_**Amirizar2003: I'm going to be writing my story right on through to Reichenbach and beyond that; probably into a sequel. Ooh spoilers!**_

_**FantasyBard: Well thank you very much! And I was able to read the first chapter before my internet went out and it sounds really cool! Very well written, will read more!**_

_**Topaz16: Lol! I'm happy too!**_

* * *

"No, no, no! Of course he's not the boy's father! Look at the turn-ups on his jeans!"

Sherlock was curled up on his chair, watching a show similar to Jerry Springer as John typed away on his laptop behind him.

"I knew it was dangerous," John commented.

"Hmm?"

"Getting you into crap telly."

"Not a patch on Connie Prince."

"Have you given Mycroft the memory stick yet?"

"Yep. He was over the moon. Threatened me with a knighthood…again."

"You know, I'm still waiting."

"Hm?"

"For you to admit that a little knowledge of the solar system and you'd have cleared up the fake painting a lot quicker."

"It didn't do _you _any good, did it?"

"No, but I'm not the world's only consulting detective."

"True."

John got up from the chair and started to walk out of the room. "Anyway, I won't be in for tea. I'm going to Sarah's. There's still some of that risotto left in the fridge."

"Hmm, I'll have to pass. I'll be going to Alexis's. It's odd, though. She hasn't answered any of my texts since we came back to the flat."

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out. We do need milk, though."

"I'll get some tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Really."

"And some beans, then?"

Sherlock nodded, and John walked out of the flat. He waited until he heard the door shut and immediately grabbed his laptop, opening his website and typing a new blog post:

_Found: The Bruce-Partington Plans. Please collect. The pool. Midnight._

He entered it into the forum and smiled slightly to himself; he knew he was clever. He put the laptop away and immediately headed out of the flat. When he opened the front door, however, he was surprised to be face to face with John.

"You think I'm stupid, don't you?" John asked him.

"What?"

"Four pips, remember? I figured you were up to something, so I waited 'round. You're going to meet this guy, aren't you?"

"You're not coming with me, John."

"Oh, yes I am."

"No, you're not," Sherlock said more firmly. "What you _can _do, however, is get 'round to Alexis's flat and see why she hasn't contacted me all day."

"Sherlock, I'm sure she's alright, and I'm going with you."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed. He wasn't going to get rid of him easily, so he hailed a cab and reluctantly allowed him to come along; but only if he promised to stay quiet.

* * *

Alexis was leaning up against a locker, starting to fall asleep when she heard Moriarty's voice in her ear once more.

_"Midnight, Alexis! Let the games begin! Walk over to the entrance of the locker room. The door should be open now."_

She did as he said and stopped in front of the door, turning the knob to check that it was indeed open and put her hand down by her side.

_"Good. Now, I want you to repeat everything I say once you enter the pool area. _Exactly _everything, you got that?"_

Even though he couldn't hear or see her, she still nodded.

_"Don't go out there until I tell you."_

She waited anxiously for about two more minutes before she heard a familiar voice coming from the pool area.

"Sherlock…" she breathed, tears welling up in her eyes. She listened closely, trying to make out anything he was saying but it was useless. She leaned up against the door, holding her breath as she waited for whatever was to come, and then she heard his voice again.

_"Showtime. Walk out now."_

With shaking hands, she turned the knob and slowly walked out into the pool area. When she rounded the corner, she was met with the sight of Sherlock holding something high above his head. John was standing a few feet away from him. Sherlock was frozen in his position, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"Evening," she greeted, trying to steady her voice.

Both men took a step closer to her, Sherlock clearly in shock.

"Alexis…what the hell?" His voice trailed off. He had no idea what was going on.

"This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock? Bet you never saw this coming. See, this…" It took her a moment to say the next few words, and she managed them bitterly. "…this is why you don't shag them and leave them. They run off and do naughty things."

_"Open up the coat and show him the bomb. I'm done teasing him."_

She opened up the coat to reveal the bomb, and he continued to give her more to say.

"What…would you like me…to make her say next?"

They cautiously stepped closer to her, now completely aware that she was in legitimate danger. Sherlock was fuming; he wanted to rip the bomb from her and slaughter whoever it was that was doing this to her.

"Gottle o' gear, gottle o' gear, gottle o' gear," she muttered.

"Stop it!" Sherlock yelled, searching frantically around the pool.

"Alexis, it's going to be alright," John whispered.

She looked at him with fear, afraid that even nodding would get one of them shot.

"Nice touch, this. The pool, where little Carl died. I stopped him…" She broke off on the words once again, now becoming sick to her stomach. "I can stop Alexis Gilmore, too. Stop her heart…which would then inevitably stop yours."

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked loudly.

Just then, a door over on the opposite end of the pool creaked open. A new voice emanated through the area.

"I gave you my number. I thought you might call."

It was undeniably Moriarty's voice. The high-pitched tone and the whiny sound made Alexis want to throw up. Sherlock and John turned to face the area where they heard the voice, and then, he emerged.

He was a short man, probably a little taller than John. He had short, dark hair and was wearing a dark tailored suit. However, as Alexis slowly turned her head to get a better look at him, she realized she'd seen him before.

Jim from IT at St. Bartholomew's Hospital.

He stepped out of the door and walked along the edge of the pool.

"Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?" he asked Sherlock, who brought out a pistol from the back of his pants and pointed it at him.

"Both."

"Jim Moriarty. Hi." He dragged on the last word in a very strange but unnerving way.

He walked closer to them, stopping until he was across from them on the same side of the pool. Sherlock and John continued to look at him closely, also finding him familiar.

"Jim? Jim from the hospital?" Moriarty mocked, knowing that he truly baffled them. "Oh, did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose, that was rather the point."

Sherlock glanced at Alexis, then looked back at Moriarty with an intense gaze. He held the gun with two hands now.

"Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifle," he continued. "I don't like getting my hands dirty."

He paused again, building up more tension for the three of them.

"I've give you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see. Like you."

Alexis scowled at this statement. Sherlock was nothing like this monster.

"Dear Jim…" Sherlock said bitterly, "…please will you fix it for me…to get rid of my lover's nasty sister? Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America?"

Moriarty was closer to them now. "Just so."

"Consulting criminal. Brilliant."

"Isn't it? No one ever gets to me." He said this with a giddy voice, but then his expression and his tone darkened. "And no one ever will."

Sherlock cocked the gun. "I did."

"You've come the closest. Now you're in my way."

"Thank you."

"Didn't mean it as a compliment."

"Yes you did."

"Yeah, okay, I did. But the flirting's over, Sherlock, daddy's had enough now." He said the last sentence in an extremely high pitched voice, singsong in fashion. "I've shown you what I can do. I cut loose all those people, all those little problems, even thirty million quid, just to get you to come out and play. So take this as a friendly warning, my dear: back off. Although, I have loved this, this little game of ours. Playing Jim from IT. Playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?"

"People have died."

"That's what people DO!" he screamed, making Alexis jump in her spot.

"I will stop you."

"No, you won't."

Sherlock turned his head and looked at Alexis, his expression softening slightly. "Are you alright?"

Moriarty was right next to Alexis now, and he took a step towards her. "You can talk, Alexis. Go ahead."

She nodded quickly in response.

"You know, I really like her, Sherlock. She's quiet, obedient. If she's a good shag I'd say she's my ideal woman!"

Alexis cringed at the thought, and Sherlock gritted his teeth. Moriarty took pleasure in this.

Sherlock dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flash drive, handing it to him. "Take it."

"Mm? Oh…the missile plans…" He kissed the flash drive, then threw it into the pool. "Boring. I could've gotten them anywhere." He cleared his throat. "Do you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock? To you?"

"Oh, let me guess. I get killed."

"Kill you? No, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm going to kill you anyway, someday. I don't want to rush it, though. I'm saving it up for something special. No, no, no, no. If you don't stop prying…I will burn you. I will burn the heart out of you."

"I have been reliably been informed that I don't have one."

Alexis looked at him sadly when he said this.

"But we both know that's not quite true." He nodded towards Alexis after he said this, then looked casually about the pool. "Well, I'd better be off. It was so nice to have had a proper chat."

Sherlock raised his gun a bit higher, pointing it at his forehead. "What if I was to shoot you now? Right now?"

"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face." He made an over-exaggerated expression. "Because I'd be surprised, Sherlock, really I would. And just a teensy bit…disappointed. And, of course, you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long."

Sherlock merely glared at him.

"Ciao, Sherlock Holmes…"

He sneered at him, turning his head to wink at Alexis and walked back through the door she originally came out of. Sherlock took two more steps toward her, pointing his gun through the doorway. "Catch…you…later."

"No, you won't!" Moriarty sang.

The door shut, leaving the three of them alone in the pool area. Sherlock looked over at Alexis with a tender expression and rushed to her. He unzipped the bomb and pulled the coat from her shoulders, whipping it across the floor. She was shaking violently where she stood, and he immediately pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" he asked frantically.

Alexis wasn't crying, but she was breathing heavily into his chest. "No, no, I'm fine. Oh god, Sherlock."

He brought her face up to his and kissed her multiple times on the lips, then pulled her back close and tucked her head under his chin.

John was busy looking through the locker room for Moriarty while this was happening. When he had no luck, he came back out and walked over to the two of them.

"She alright?" he asked gently, ready to treat her if necessary.

"Shaken up, but she'll be alright," he told him.

Alexis wanted to be insulted by the way they spoke about her as if she wasn't there, but she was too frightened to care or even respond. She just held Sherlock as tightly as she could, reveling in his comforting presence and the fact that he was okay.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left you," Sherlock whispered into her hair. He knew that if he'd stayed with Alexis longer or even brought her to Scotland Yard with him, that this never would have happened. She could have been killed because he left her alone.

"Sherlock, we should get out of here," John whispered.

Alexis heard this and straightened up, knowing that they needed to get out of there as fast as they could. Sherlock took hold of her hand as he bent down to get John's gun from the floor, only to freeze when he saw multiple red dots flickering on her body. He looked over at John and down at himself and saw the same thing. He stood up straight and pulled Alexis close to him.

"Sorry boys, and lady," Moriarty announced as he came out through the other locker room door. "I'm soooooo changeable. It is a weakness with me. But to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness. You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't. I would try to convince you, but…everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!"

All three of them were terrified, but Sherlock kept a straight face. He looked over at John, and he nodded. Alexis was confused by this until he looked into her eyes, then shot them over to where her coat lie. It immediately hit her what he was planning to do. She squeezed his hand tightly and turned with him as he pointed his gun at the coat.

"Then probably my answer has crossed yours," he told him.

Alexis looked over briefly at John, smiling at him slightly. He returned it faintly and turned his head back to stare at the coat. Sherlock had his gaze locked with Moriarty's. She knew that whatever was about to happen, it wouldn't be good. This could be her last moment; her last moment with Sherlock, and her last moment on Earth. As much as she wanted to cry, her placid expression never faltered. She simply closed her eyes and waited for the unknown outcome. Waiting, waiting, waiting…

Out of nowhere, amidst the tense silence, the song "Staying Alive" by the Bee Gees began to play and filled the entire pool area. Sherlock looked down at John and Alexis in confusion. Moriarty rolled his eyes, and Sherlock shot him a confused expression.

"Do you mind if I get that?" Moriarty asked, referring to his phone.

"Oh, no please," Sherlock responded. "You've got the rest of your life."

He pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered it. "Hello…yes, of course it is. What do you want?"

He mouthed the word "sorry" to Sherlock, who responded with "oh, it's fine" in the same fashion. He rolled his eyes and slowly turned around as the listened to the call, then all of a sudden whipped back around.

"Say that again!" he screamed.

All three of them looked at him strangely.

"Say that again, and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you, and I will ssssskin you."

They all exchanged weirded-out glances.

"Wait." He took a few steps towards them and an annoyed expression came across his face. "Sorry…wrong day to die."

"Oh. Did you get a better offer?" Sherlock asked mockingly.

Moriarty looked down at his phone, then back up at him. He started to walk away. "You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock."

Sherlock followed him with the gun as he walked away. He continued with his conversation.

"So if you have what you say you have, I'll make you rich. If not, I'll make you into shoes." Just as he crossed through the door he originally came out of, he snapped his fingers. The red dots disappeared from their bodies and they heard the sounds of guns being taken down and packed away.

Sherlock looked around the area while Alexis gripped his arm for dear life.

John exhaled. "What happened there?"

"Someone changed his mind," Sherlock responded. "Question is: who?"

Just then, Alexis began to hyperventilate and dropped down to her knees. The relief from escaping sure death combined with the stress of the day overwhelmed her, and she began to sob breathlessly.

Sherlock dropped to his knees and gently took hold of both of her arms and guided her to stand. "We have to get her out of here John." They walked at a steady pace out of the pool area, Sherlock holding her close the whole way. "It's alright, Alexis. It's going to be alright. You're safe now."

He grabbed his coat and wrapped it around her, and they left the Y.M.C.A. as fast as they could.


	23. Chapter 22

_**MATURE content!**_

_**Sorry for the delay everyone! I've had a lot of work lately and I haven't been able to write but here is chapter 22!**_

_**TheGirlWhoImagined: Thank you! I'm so glad that it did I was afraid I would cause an uproar!**_

_**Amirizar2003: I'm still trying to figure that out myself XD**_

_**Midnight Angel414: I know at least that much is correct; there will be some major issues there.**_

_**Topaz16: I love it too! I thought it kind of described them because in the song it mentioned "waiting" and such.**_

* * *

Alexis managed to calm herself down considerably before the three of them got in the cab and headed back home to Baker Street. She was leant up against Sherlock the whole time, her head on his shoulder and her hand holding onto his. They were reluctant to let go of each other; they didn't even care that John was seeing all of this happen.

When they arrived back at the flat, they slowly walked inside and took off their coats before walking up to the living room. John immediately slumped down into his chair while Sherlock merely stood in the middle of the room. Alexis was leaning up against the doorway when she felt an unpleasant feeling in her stomach.

"I, um…I think I'm going to-"

She gripped her stomach and covered her hand with her mouth as she made a b-line for Sherlock's bathroom. He looked after her helplessly, then back to John.

"John, are you going to be…?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Go."

Sherlock ran after her and found her leaning over the sink, dry heaving. She gripped the sides of it out of frustration.

"I-I feel like I'm going to throw up, but nothing's coming out," she managed to say through her heaves. Sherlock came up behind her and placed his hands on her arms.

"You're in shock. The feeling will pass soon."

Her heaving soon faded into more hyperventilating. She suddenly whipped around and threw herself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He stroked her hair lightly with one hand, guilt stabbing at his heart as she cried.

"Sherlock, I thought we were dead," she sobbed. "I thought I was going to lose you."

"I know, and I'm sorry. This is my fault."

She pulled away and looked up at him with hurt eyes. "Why do you keep apologizing? Why are you saying it's your fault? You saved us, Sherlock! You saved all our lives!"

"Alexis, I didn't save anyone. If I hadn't left you this morning, if I didn't make you go to work, you wouldn't have been there! I could have just gone by myself and…"

"And what? Die alone? Stop blaming yourself, Sherlock. I hate it! I just hate it!"

He looked down at her with sad eyes, and she immediately felt bad. She felt the nausea in her stomach fading away and so she pinned Sherlock to the wall and kissed him deeply. She forced her tongue into his mouth to deepen the kiss. He responded by wrapping his arms around her waist, moaning slightly into her mouth. This sound pleased her, and she gripped the hair at the back of his head tightly between her fingers. He was suddenly overcome with an overwhelming need to have her, and so he picked her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist and carried her out to the bed.

He deposited her on the bed and briefly left her to shut the door of his bedroom. He climbed on top of her and continued to kiss her passionately, his hands roaming up her back and along her sides. She started to unbutton his jacket and his white shirt beneath it, achieving this rather quickly and moving them off of his torso and pushing them to the floor. He lifted her shirt up over her head and tossed it to the floor on the other side of the bed and immediately went to unzip her skirt, pulling it down her legs. She undid his trousers and pushed them along with his boxers down and off his legs. The only remaining garments were Alexis's bra and panties, and Sherlock practically ripped them off and immediately went for her breasts.

He licked and sucked her intensely, eliciting a loud moan from her lips as she gripped the bed sheets. She decided to try something new and moved her hand down to cup his penis, making him groan loudly and falter with his administrations. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. His gaze made her hungrier for him and she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in to kiss him once more. She hooked her arms around his neck and he moved them until he was sitting up, pulling her onto his lap with her legs behind him.

He raised her body up slowly and lowered her gently onto him. She gasped at the feeling of his entry, closing her eyes and throwing her head back slightly. The feel of him slowly entering her was almost too much for her to bear, and she would have fallen backward had Sherlock not been holding her to him. He started to kiss her neck up behind her ear, loving the soft noises that came from her mouth. She returned her arms to their position around his neck and held on for dear life as he began to slowly thrust within her. She brought his face back up to hers so she could kiss him again. Their desperate kisses became wet and breathy, both of them overwhelmed by the other as they made love. Sherlock began to pick up speed, going deeper with each thrust and making Alexis moan louder each time.

"Sherlock…" she breathed, beginning to feel her climax nearing. "Sherlock, I…"

She couldn't speak coherently as her pleasure escalated. Sherlock sensed this and quickened his pace even more, his arousal intensifying as well. She gripped the back of his head as she was about to reach the edge, and Sherlock brought her in for a kiss as he captured her scream of pleasure with his mouth. She shook as the aftershocks rippled through her body, gasping once more as Sherlock reached his climax. After a few final, weak thrusts, Sherlock lifted her off of him and lay her down against the pillows. He lay down beside her and pulled her close to him, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting his other hand against her head.

"Stay here a few days, will you?" he said, still breathing heavily. "I want you close. I want to know you're alright."

She smiled and lightly kissed his chest. "Okay. I know I'll be safe if I'm with you."

He kissed the top of her head. "I am sorry I left, though. I wanted to stay, but we needed this information from the gallery owner. She was the one who told us it was Moriarty who was behind all this. But still…"

"Sherlock, I know. It's okay, it's over now." She reached up and laid her hand on his cheek.

"I fear it may only be the beginning, Alexis."

"Well for now, let's just be cautious but not dwell on it. Let's just enjoy the time we have."

Sherlock smiled down at her. He rolled over on top of her and kissed her once more, embracing the fact that she was safe and planning on enjoying her for a second time that night.

* * *

April 5, 2011

The next morning, Alexis was the first to emerge from Sherlock's bedroom. She walked out into the kitchen and found John talking on the phone.

"…yes. Yes, two tickets. Good, at 4:30? Is that correct? Thank you. Thank you very much. Bye." He hung up the phone. "Oh, morning Alexis."

"Good morning, John," she greeted, searching through the cabinets for anything to eat.

"I wouldn't bother. There's nothing in. Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, thanks. Much better."

"Good."

"Listen, Sherlock wants me to stay here for a few days, just to make sure I'll be alright for the long term. Would that be alright with you?"

"Yes, absolutely! Of course, I won't be here."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"New Zealand."

"Wow, that's a little out of nowhere."

John chuckled. "Well, I've got a mate from the army down there and I'm going to go visit him for a few weeks. Get away from the…excitement for a little while, you know?"

"Sure, I get that. I'm hoping things stay relatively dormant for a little while."

He stepped closer to her, looking down at his feet and back up at her. "Look, for what it's worth, I'm glad you and Sherlock worked things out. Even if it was just a day, I could tell he wasn't doing too well."

She looked at him with sad eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah. All during that case, you could tell he was distracted. He really does love you, you know."

She smiled and hugged him. "Thanks, John."

"Sure. Where's Sherlock, anyway?"

"Showering. He's taking me back to my place so I can get what I'll need to stay here. Not that I'll need any work clothes. I wouldn't doubt if they've fired me already for my absences of late."

"Not to worry," Sherlock announced as he entered the kitchen, freshly dressed. "I called them early this morning, told them what's been going on, and they're giving you the rest of the week off. No questions."

"You did?" she asked, looking at him with admiring disbelief. "Sherlock, thank you."

She walked over to him and kissed him. John lowered his head a bit to give them some privacy.

"Well, I'd better go pack," he said, walking out of the room.

"So, no problems with work?" Alexis checked as Sherlock wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"None at all. Dr. McPhee is a surprisingly reasonable man. You've obviously been an excellent employee over the years.

She smiled, leaning into him. "Well, it looks like we'll have this place to ourselves for a few weeks."

"So it would seem. I don't see why he has to go all the way to New Zealand, however. There are plenty of romantic getaways in England he could take Sarah to."

"He's taking Sarah with him?"

"Yes."

She chuckled. "I have to say, that woman is amazing. If she didn't break up with John after being kidnapped and nearly killed by that psychotic General Shan, then I'd say she's a keeper."

"Hmm. Shall we go, then?"

"Yeah, definitely."

They walked out of the kitchen and down the stairs, Sherlock grabbing his coat and starting to put it around Alexis.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"It's only in the forties out there, and you haven't got a coat. A red, silk shirt isn't going to keep you warm enough, and so you'll wear mine until we can retrieve your other one at your flat."

She put the coat on as she would her own despite how large it was on her, then she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

They arrived at her flat, and Alexis immediately went to take a shower. Sherlock waited for her in the living room, sitting on the couch and observing everything he could see. Everything had its place and matched up perfectly. He noted all of the pictures in frames on the tables, as well. He was able to determine who each person was, even if he didn't know their precise identity. One such picture was one of her and Gwen taken three years prior. He walked over to it to get a better look, and he could automatically tell that they were both younger. They had their arms around each other and their heads pressed together as they smiled at the camera. He couldn't help but crack a small smile. Alexis clearly had always been a beautiful girl.

"That's Gwen," Alexis said, surprising him as he quickly turned around to find her in just her black, silk robe, her hair dried and styled already. "She's my best friend. Has been ever since I came back to England."

"I knew she obviously had to be close due to your proximity in this photograph."

She walked over to him and picked up the picture next to it. "These are my two best friends from back in Pittsburgh, Amber and Monica."

"You've known them for most of your life," he deduced.

She smiled. "First grade. We were inseparable since then."

"But you haven't spoken to them much since you came back to London."

Her smile slowly dropped from her face. "No. Not as much as I'd like. Being separated by an ocean tends to complicate any kind of relationship."

She was starting to visibly become sad, but she suddenly shrugged it off and smiled weakly. "I'm going to go pack."

"Of course."

She bounced off to her room, Sherlock slowly following after her. She started to pull out work clothes from her wardrobe and laid them over the quilt stand. He sat on the bed and watched her as she worked.

"I won't be long, I promise," she told him, pulling a few pairs of jeans out of her dresser and tossing them into her suitcase.

"It's fine."

She quickly got her casual clothes packed and then carefully folded her work clothes and packed them into another suitcase. She picked up both cases and was about to bring them around to the front of the bed when she suddenly yelped in pain and doubled over, dropping the cases.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Sherlock asked, slight alarm in his tone as he rushed over to her.

She groaned. "Yeah, god, it's just my toe. I stubbed it on the damn bed again. I always do that!"

"The pain should subside quickly," he told her, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her up to stand. He steadied her in front of him, his body extremely close to hers. Alexis laid her hands on his chest and looked up into his eyes, quickly forgetting about the pain in her toe.

"Do you have to be anywhere?" she asked, moving her hands slowly up and down, raking her nails gently across his pecs.

He forgot to breathe for a moment as his hands absentmindedly drifted to her waist. "Not that I know of. Why?"

She gently turned them until his back was to the bed, then gently pushed him down to fall back on the mattress. She climbed over him, smiling down at him before leaning in for a kiss. He returned his hands to her waist as he struggled to kick off his shoes. After having no luck, and Alexis realizing what he was trying to do, she pulled back and crawled down to his feet.

"I'll do it," she whispered, swiftly pulling off his shoes as well as his socks.

She climbed back up his body and straddled his waist. Sherlock could feel her wetness against his crotch, as she was naked under her robe which drove him crazy. His erection grew larger and pressed up against her center, making her moan slightly as she started to unbutton his shirt. After each button was undone, she opened the shirt up a bit more and kissed his chest there. He had to take slow, deep breaths for fear of losing control. Alexis loved having this effect on him. For their first two times, he'd primarily done all the work. She hadn't had the chance to really explore his body, and she also wanted the chance to pleasure him from head to toe as he did for her.

She managed to completely undo his shirt, and mouthed just below his belly button before having him sit up to remove that as well as his jacket. She scooted down to rest over his legs so she could unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. She slowly pulled them down his legs, leaving him only in his boxers. His erection appeared to be at its peak now, as it was practically poking out of his underwear, begging to be released. She pulled them off of him and put her hands on his thighs, hearing a sharp intake of breath and smiling at it. Her arousal grew as she looked at his member. He was impressively large, but not too large. She reached out and ran a finger along his shaft, causing him to moan deep in his throat. Smirking, she wrapped her entire hand around him and began to stroke up and down slowly. He gripped the sheets as she did this, this new feeling so incredibly overwhelming that he was sure that nothing except actually being inside her could compare. However, she soon proved him wrong when she lowered her head and took him in her mouth.

He moaned loudly, sinking his head deep into the sheets as she slowly bobbed up and down. This was a new experience for her as well, and she prayed he didn't hear the low whimpers coming from within her throat.

"Alexis…" he breathed, his toes curling as he sunk his feet further into the mattress.

His arousal was increasing quickly. If she finished him off, he knew what would happen. It was the last thing he wanted to do the first time she did this for him, so he reached down with his hand and buried it in her hair.

"Alexis, please…" he managed to say. She clearly didn't get the message, as she was too distracted by trying to complete him. He finally reached down with his other hand and gently pulled her head up and off of him, leaving her to look at him confused.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concern spreading across her face as she climbed back up and lay next to him. "Did I do something wrong? Was I being too forward?"

"Of course not, I just didn't want…I didn't want you to…finish what you were doing?"

"Why not?"

"Because…" He was very uncomfortable trying to explain this to her, as he didn't want to come right out and say "I didn't want to ejaculate into your mouth." He wrapped an arm around her waist and thought for a moment, then a devilish grin spread across his face as he found the answer. "Because it's my turn."

She yelped as he swiftly rolled on top of her, pinning her to the mattress and kissing her hungrily. He was quite proud of how he got himself out of that, and he moved down from her face and down to her neck, mouthing the flesh there and occasionally scraping his teeth lightly across it. She whimpered at the extremity of the pleasure, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and his back.

He continued to move south on her body, stopping at her breasts and pleasuring them one at a time as he massaged the free one with his hand. She was gasping to the point where it was nearly a scream. She was coming close to orgasm, and Sherlock decided he would quickly finish her off and shot his head down to her center. He licked and sucked her with a vengeance, gripping her hips and pressing them down into the sheets. She was screaming now, her folds becoming more and more slick as her arousal began to climb that metaphorical hill. He picked up his speed and finished her off by jamming his tongue into her slit, causing her to scream louder than she ever had up until that point.

She gasped loudly as she came down from her high, the aftershocks more intense as he licked through them until she was still. He kissed her hipbone, her stomach, her sternum, and finally her lips as he made his way back up her body. She had this beautiful glow about her which endeared Sherlock. He lay down beside her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and resting the other across her stomach. She turned her head to face him and smiled drowsily at him.

"That wasn't fair," she whispered, causing him to chuckle deeply.

"But you enjoyed it nonetheless, did you not?" He flashed her that grin once more and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

"Fine, but I _will _return the favor one day."

He leaned down until his lips just barely brushed hers. "We'll just have to see about that."

They kissed once more.


	24. Chapter 23

_**Sorry I can't go into too much detail on the cases mentioned in the second paragraph; they aren't put into detail in John's blog, but hopefully I can get some of the written out ones in the story!**_

_**Also, I know I've given out pretty much all the information about Alexis's past, but I'm going to lay it all out at once in this chapter! Forgive me if it's repetitive but I'm having trouble figuring out what to write! This is basically a crap chapter but I hope you like it.**_

_**Another also! If you'd like to know what Alexis's father looks like, look up actor Daniel Day Lewis. I haven't worked out a visual for Alexis's mother yet, but I know exactly what her sister looks like but won't tell you until…later…**_

_**A few more songs:**_

_**Angel of Mine by Eternal (one of my faves; so beautiful)**_

_**A Bird Without Wings by Celtic Thunder **_

_**You Set Me Free by Michelle Branch (a bit girly but whatever it applies to them both)**_

_**Amirizar2003: LOL! Well come on! They're two very good looking people who are madly in love and have a powerful sex drive! Of course they're gonna go at it!**_

_**Smilelikeafrog: Wow, thank you so much! It warms my heart reading compliments like that and I'm so glad you like Alexis! The updates will come as quickly as they can.**_

_**Midnight Angel414: That means so much! I'm so glad you liked it!**_

_**FantasyBard: Thank you so much! Achieving that balance was my biggest goal! Have fun with the rest of my story so far!**_

_**Topaz16: Yeah definitely! Poor guy would've been scarred for life! And thank you!**_

* * *

May 28, 2011

Things soon returned to normal for the occupants of 221B Baker Street; well, returned to _their _version of normal anyway. John returned from New Zealand after three weeks, only to report that he'd unfortunately broken up with Sarah. Alexis was saddened by this but Sherlock didn't seem to care; he probably didn't even hear John tell him. Alexis ended up staying at Baker Street longer than three weeks. In fact, she was spending most of her time there.

They had a few interesting cases over the next month. There was the Tilly Briggs cruise that the owners didn't particularly want anyone to know about. Then there was a really strange one having to do with a melting laptop that Alexis didn't get the full details on. And finally, the time that Sherlock hijacked a double-decker bus filled with tourists. That, Alexis had to admit, was a fun one.

Everything was good. Sherlock and Alexis were just as happy, and active, as ever. John was very patient with the two of them considering he himself couldn't hold onto a long-term relationship. He really liked Alexis. She was a nice girl and was a breath of fresh air with Sherlock as his flat mate. Despite the cramped-in area, they made things work. Mrs. Hudson even allowed Alexis to keep some of her art projects down in flat C; she'd given up on renting out that flat ages ago, anyway.

* * *

On the final Saturday in May, Sherlock and John were both out on a case, and Alexis was sitting in the living room of the flat reading. It was her favorite book, _The Time Traveler's Wife_, but somehow it wasn't keeping her interested. She put the book down on the table and walked down the stairs to the foyer, not sure what her intentions were. She suddenly heard a faint humming coming from down the hall in Mrs. Hudson's flat and decided she would pay her a visit. She padded down to her door and gently knocked on it.

"Come in!" Mrs. Hudson cheerfully announced from the kitchen.

Alexis walked in and crossed through the bead-covered doorway and found her baking. Mrs. Hudson looked up at her with a smile.

"Hello, dear! Come in! Sit down! What can I do for you?" She turned back to the counter where she was mixing something in a bowl. Cookie dough, so it appeared.

Alexis took a seat at the small kitchen table. "I'm bored, Mrs. Hudson, which I know are dangerous words to be muttered in this house."

She chuckled in delight. "As long as you don't put a bullet hole in my wall, dear, I can handle a bit of boredom. Come, help me scoop out the dough."

She smiled and got up, then proceeded to fill four cookie sheets with small balls of chocolate chip cookie dough. Mrs. Hudson made them a pot of tea and sat at the table as the cookies baked.

"So," Alexis began, taking a small sip of her tea, "I have to tell you, Mrs. Hudson, you have to be the bravest landlady on the planet."

"Oh, well, it is difficult at times having Sherlock live on the floor above, but he really is a good young man. Plus, I do think it's wonderful now that he has a flat mate. And you, of course, dear. I think it's lovely how you've been spending so much time together lately."

"Well, what can I say? I love him."

She smiled sweetly. "That's just lovely. I remember back when I was first married, how in love with my husband I was. Times soon changed, though, and now that part of my life is well behind me."

Alexis reached out and took gentle hold of her hand. "It can happen for you again, Mrs. Hudson."

"Oh, don't worry about me, dear. I'm content with it just being me here as long as I have the three of you. I can admit I haven't felt as lonely since Sherlock moved into the flat. Knowing someone is always there is quite comforting, even if they're putting body parts in the refrigerator."

She chuckled slightly, staring down at her cup. Mrs. Hudson was right, and she felt the same way.

"Is everything alright, dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked her.

She looked up from her cup and smiled sadly. "Yeah, I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"Well, it's just that, before Sherlock came along, I wasn't exactly in the best place in my life. I was really…alone, but he changed that."

"You must really love him, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"And he loves you too, dear, I can tell. You've helped him, as well."

She perked up. "You think?"

"Oh, of course! It's difficult to tell, but he's definitely been happier."

She smiled wide. It was one thing that Sherlock made her happier, but to have made such an impact in _his _life? She obviously knew she must have, but was too modest to say it herself.

"So dear, tell me, how is it that you've come to live in London? You're obviously an American, so what's brought you here?"

Alexis took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself. _Time to repeat my life story, _she thought. She was happy to, though, because it was Mrs. Hudson.

"Well, I was born here, actually. I lived here until my mother died when I was four and my dad moved my sister and I to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear about your mother dear. How did she die? If you don't mind my asking that is."

"No, it's fine. It was an aneurism."

"What a shame. Oh, but I didn't know you had a sister!"

"Mhmm, Abigail. She's a year younger than me. Anyway, my dad remarried in 1993, and I lived there until I moved back here to go to school in 2004. I moved in with my grandmother, Claire, and I've been here ever since."

"And your father, is he still in Pittsburgh, then?"

"No, he died in a car accident just before I moved back here."

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry! I can't imagine what that must have been like."

Alexis faked a brave smile, fighting desperately to hold back the tears forming in her eyes. "I try not to think about it. Anyway, I went to school, got my degree, and got a job at the National Portrait Gallery. And after my grandmother died, my life became relatively stable. Lonely, but stable."

"Oh, Alexis…" Mrs. Hudson took her hand and held it firmly between both of hers. Alexis tried to avoid pity from others regarding her life, but with Mrs. Hudson, it was kind of endearing.

"It's okay, Mrs. Hudson. Like I said, things are good now, and I try not to dwell on the past."

"I imagine your sister is the same way. At least, I would hope so."

"I think she is, though I wouldn't know precisely. I haven't spoken to her in four years."

"You haven't?"

"No. Let's just say that things were never normal between us, and we just figured that we didn't really need each other after Claire died. That's actually one of the unfortunate parts of my life that brings me the least amount of pain."

"Oh, but to be estranged from your sister? Surely you've wanted to speak with her at least once over the years? Just to see if she's alright?"

"I have thought about it, but I'm sure she's doing just fine. She's stronger than I am and more resilient to pain." _I would know._

Mrs. Hudson looked as if she wanted to say something else, but the oven went off just as she was about to open her mouth. Alexis practically jumped from her chair and walked over to it.

"First batch is done!" she announced, setting the pan on the cutting board. "We should get the second batch in before the dough goes soft."

* * *

They'd finished up all four batches by the time Sherlock and John returned to the flat. Sherlock could smell the cookies immediately and heard Mrs. Hudson and Alexis's indistinct chatter coming from down the hall. John had already made his way up the stairs, and suddenly both women started to laugh hysterically. Sherlock went down to investigate.

He walked through the doorway and found them both sitting at the kitchen table eating cookies. They both turned their heads to look and him as he entered the room.

"Hey," Alexis greeted, getting up from the chair and walking over to kiss him.

"Hello, Sherlock, how goes the case?" Mrs. Hudson asked politely.

"There is no case," he replied curtly. Alexis could tell immediately that things had not gone well, so she shot Mrs. Hudson a cautious glance. She seemed to understand as she got up to wash their plates.

"You should try a cookie, Sherlock. It's Mrs. Hudson's recipe, and they're delicious."

She picked up a cookie and held it in front of him, unsure of whether or not he had any sort of appetite.

He looked over it real quick and took it from her. "Fine," he said, taking a bite. He stared down at the floor as he chewed carefully, Alexis surprisingly eager to determine whether he approved. As soon as he swallowed the first bit, he nodded.

"Very well made, Mrs. Hudson," he told her, popping the rest into his mouth.

Alexis smiled and grabbed two more cookies. "See you later, Mrs. Hudson."

"Good-bye, dear!"

Sherlock had already headed back up to his flat when Alexis walked out into the foyer. She was surprised to see John there, shrugging into his coat.

"Hey, Alexis," he greeted, grabbing his keys.

"Hey, John. Where are you off to?"

"Oh, I've got a date. You'd best let Sherlock know. I don't think he was listening when I told him."

"Sure. Have fun!"

"Thanks."

He walked out the door, and Alexis ran up to the flat. Sherlock was sat in his chair, plucking at the strings of his violin while staring at the fireplace.

"John, could you pass me my phone?" he asked, clearly in his own zone.

Alexis smiled, knowing he was in his own world. "Where is it?"

He whipped his head around to find her standing in the doorway. "I was just talking to John. Where is he?"

"Just left for a date."

"What? He didn't tell me that."

"Yeah…he did. Probably more than once."

"Hmm," he mused, turning his gaze back to the fireplace.

Alexis walked over and sat across from him in John's chair. She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her thighs. "So, what happened with the case?"

"I told you before, there was no case." He sighed and put his violin down on the floor. "A man in his early twenties was found dead in his flat. He was shot in the chest. His best friend discovered him there and phoned the police. Whilst the police were searching the flat, trying to find any sort of lead, I was able to figure out in less than two minutes that it was the best friend who had shot him."

"Really? How?"

"He was visibly nervous, but not in the way you would be after having just 'discovered' your best friend dead. No, this was a suspicious kind of nervous. He couldn't stop glancing at the body. Most people that close to the victim would refuse to even be in the same room as the corpse. His hands were shaking, and he kept rubbing the fingers of his right hand together. As well as glancing at the corpse, he kept looking into the kitchen which was attached to the living room, specifically in the corner by the end of the counter. I informed Lestrade of this, and he had a member of forensics search the area. Turns out, there was a loose floorboard that was difficult to detect, but once the board was removed, they discovered a semi-automatic pistol. The best friend tried to make a run for it, but was apprehended just before he could run out the door. No doubt his fingerprints are all over that gun. Case closed."

"But the way you figured it out so quickly is impressive, Sherlock."

"Hmm."

Alexis dropped her head, knowing she wouldn't be able to cheer him up with praise. She looked about the room, glancing at the doorway and up the stairs to the third floor. Suddenly, something clicked inside her, and she looked back at Sherlock with a smirk.

"You know," she said, sinking down on her knees onto the floor and placing her hands on Sherlock's legs. "John probably won't be back for a while. We have the whole flat to ourselves."

"And?" Sherlock asked with a straight face.

She got up and straddled his lap on the chair, never breaking eye contact with him as she moved her hands to rest on either side of his neck. It hit him instantly. "Ah, I see."

Her smile grew wider. "Shall we, Mr. Holmes?"

The devilish smirk that drove her crazy slowly formed on his face. "Well…I don't suppose I could deny you, Miss Gilmore."

With that, he shot up from his chair, Alexis quickly wrapping her legs about his waist. They kissed hungrily as he blindly took off toward his room, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, after having made rigorous love twice, they both lay side by side in his bed, breathing heavily as they came down from their high. Alexis felt as though she would pass out from sheer pleasure and exhaustion. They'd had plenty of energetic sex before that, but that day was just insane. Sherlock, however, wasn't the least bit exhausted as he proceeded to roll over and begin kissing his love's neck once more. Her eyes shot open and she moved her hands to the arm he had draped across her chest.

"Sherlock, wait, stop," she told him, pushing his arm down to her stomach.

He huffed loudly and leant up on his elbow. "What is it?" he asked somewhat impatiently.

"Well…I mean, we've done it twice already, both times being incredibly…fast. I don't think my poor little body can take much more."

"That's nonsense. Your body has the energy to do it at least twice more, but your mind is telling you that you can't. It's not that you can't, it's that you don't want to."

"Sherlock, I don't think I could even walk at this point!"

He sighed and made a move to get out of the bed. Alexis put an arm around his stomach.

"Hey, come on, don't leave," she told him, gently pulling him to lie on his back. "Just stay here for a while."

"I can't sit still, Alexis. I'm bored, I need to move. I need to be doing something. I-"

She cut him off by grabbing the back of his head and kissing him passionately. When she pulled away, his expression softened and he closed his eyes, exhaling. She smiled and laid her head down on his chest.

"I know you're bored. Some of the cases you've had have been easy. You need something that's difficult that challenges you." She rubbed her hands along his chest and his sides. "I just hope that I'm not boring you."

"That's absurd. You never bore me. Especially when we're engaging in the activity which we just were."

She giggled and pressed a kiss to his chest. "You'll get something good soon, Sherlock. You always do. Some big case will come along that will really put your mind to work."

"It can't come too soon." He started to stroke her hair.

She smiled. "The last time you said that, the flat across the street exploded."

He smirked, kissing the top of her head lightly. "I can admit that I wouldn't prefer anything to do with bombs at the moment."

"Me too."

He gently pulled her face up to his and kissed her, softly at first, but then Alexis moved to straddle him and deepened the kiss. When she pulled away, he looked up at her with questioning eyes.

"I think I have one more go 'round left in me."

He laughed and pulled her down for another kiss.


	25. Chapter 24

_**MATURE content! Happy birthday Sherlock ;)**_

_**Sorry for the lack of dialogue in the cases! I didn't want to make it sound too much like another version of the cases another author wrote in her story, but you'll get the gist of it!**_

_**By the way, you can look out for the shirt that Alexis gets for Sherlock at the end of "A Scandal in Belgravia".**_

_**Amirizar2003: I love it too! Thanks!**_

_**Midnight Angel414: XD I know I love it! And I'm sure Alexis loves it too.**_

* * *

June 15, 2011

Pretty soon, Sherlock was being flooded with interesting case inquiries. First, there came a man who was worried about his wife spending a lot of time at the office, then a woman believing her husband was having an affair, a man believing his aunt's ashes were replaced and all the way up to a group of gentleman offering a large sum of money for the recovery of very important files. None of these cases interested Sherlock whatsoever, much to the dismay of John and Alexis.

However, one day, three young men came to the flat with a case that finally struck Sherlock's fancy. Chris Melas was the first young man's name. He told them of a website that he had that explained the true meaning of comic books, and that the comic books were starting to come true. John was automatically put off by this statement, but surprisingly, Sherlock was eager to hear more about it.

Chris went on to tell them about the KRATIDES, a fictional series about a group of superheroes who fight terrorists and protect the world from evil. His explanation was boring at first, but things got really interesting when he told them that he was starting to see members of KRATIDES in real life. He told them of three members he'd seen around the city, one of which he'd been able to get a picture of; a blue-skinned man by the name of Professor Davenport. All of these sightings, and what they were doing at the time, had already happened in the comic books.

Because of seeing this, Chris wanted the world to know. He posted of this on his own website as well as other accounts he'd had. People ridiculed him for it, and he'd alienated practically all of his friends and family except for three people; the two friends who accompanied him to Baker Street, and a person named Kemp who contacted him on his website. He didn't know who Kemp was or what he looked like, but this person was encouraging him whole heartedly to tell the world of his sightings. Alexis felt bad for this kid.

Sherlock determined that there were three possible explanations to all of this. One, KRATIDES actually existed (John and Alexis had a very hard time wrapping their heads around that possibility). Two, Chris was suffering from psychological delusions. Or three, that all of this was being done for his benefit. He sent John and Alexis to a comic book shop to do some "research", as well as looking into it himself. Neither of them were eager to enter that kind of extreme environment, but they did end up finding what they were looking for. KRATIDES sales went through the roof. Everyone wanted to buy it even though they continued to ridicule Chris. The two of them felt this information was enough, and left the shop as soon as they could; but not before Alexis was gawked at by practically every boy in that place. It was obvious none of them had even spoken to a girl before.

Sherlock contacted a woman from his homeless network by the name of Rebecca, and got her to do some digging which led them to figure out the real identity of the mysterious Kemp. It turned out that he worked for the publishers who created KRATIDES. This entire fiasco was just a publicity stunt for the comic series. Chris was heartbroken when he found out, but that sadness soon turned to rage and he vowed to do whatever he had to to get back at them. Sherlock was pleased by this and soon developed a rather extreme plan which involved he and John dressing up as ninjas fighting Chris, dressed up as one of the KRATIDES heroes, on Shaftesbury Avenue. Alexis pretended to be just another face in the crowd as she watched this fake fight occur, and towards the end of it, Sherlock and John ran off and Chris ripped off his mask and told the whole crowd what the publishers had done to him. He was met with applause.

That night, Alexis was reading a book in the bedroom when Sherlock walked in, still dressed as a ninja. She laughed and tossed the book aside, throwing herself at him. She barely managed to shut the door just before the "fighting" ensued.

* * *

July 12, 2011

About a month later, another case turned up that greatly intrigued Sherlock. A woman in her early thirties named Julia Stoner turned up dead with a bunch of mysterious red speckles covering her entire body. There was no obvious cause of death at first, but John was soon able to find two puncture wounds in her right ankle and an unidentified poison in her bloodstream. This led them to believe that she'd been bitten by something, and the fact that her fiancée Percy owned numerous types of snakes caused this all to lead right to him.

However, no matter how hard they tried, they always hit a brick wall when factoring in the night of her murder. There was no evidence of _him _actually committing the crime. They then went on to interview Julia's sister, Helen, and her stepfather, Doctor Roylott. He was a big name in cosmetics, and Julia and Helen lived with him. No leads there as of yet, and the case seemed to be getting nowhere as the days went on.

That was when Sherlock decided he wanted to recreate Julia's final night. The three of them went to her house and had Helen tell them of everything she did. She'd gone out with a few friends but didn't drink much, then came home and had a bath. Helen had also mentioned to them that she herself was starting to feel a bit tired and rundown, exactly as Julia had felt in the weeks leading up to her death.

Sherlock examined the bottle of bubble bath that Julia had been using. It was a brand created by her stepfather, something that wasn't released to the public yet but he allowed the two of them to try. Sherlock took it back to Bart's and discovered that the bubble bath was in fact a slow acting poison, meant to kill his stepdaughters slowly over time. Helen was horrified at this, and so they all went back to the house to confront Doctor Roylott. However, when they'd returned, it was too late. He'd hung himself in the kitchen, no note or anything. Helen was heartbroken on so many levels, and they realized they would never know why this monster did this to them.

* * *

July 14, 2011

Alexis was having lunch on her break when her text alert went off. She pulled her phone from her purse and merely stared at it. It wasn't a number she initially knew, but it looked familiar to her. She opened the text to see what it was.

**Sherlock's birthday is the 19****th****. Do with this information what you will. – M**

She was shocked, but still smiled. Before this, she'd never given thought to Sherlock's birthday. She didn't even know how old he was! Just as she was about to put her phone away, she reopened the message and hit the "Save to contacts" option. She knew that having Mycroft's number would come in handy one day.

* * *

July 18, 2011

Alexis was showered and dressed and ready to head to work earlier than usual that morning. At 7:30, she walked out into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Sherlock was already awake and sitting at the table in the living room, and was somewhat surprised to see her already in the kitchen.

"You're up early," he commented, not looking up from his paper.

"Yeah, well, I guess it's just one of those days. Full of unexplained energy and unable to sleep until to alarm."

"Hmm," was his response.

She downed her coffee and quickly walked over to kiss Sherlock goodbye before heading out the door.

"Oh, by the way," she said, turning around to face him, "I'm going out with Gwen after work so I won't be home until later, okay?"

"That's fine."

"Good, okay. I love you."

"Love you, too."

She practically sprinted down the stairs and out the door. She'd been on edge since she got up. Tomorrow was Sherlock's birthday and she hadn't the slightest clue what she was going to do! As she climbed into the cab, she quickly dialed Gwen's number, cursing her as it rang five times before she picked up.

_"Hello?" _Gwen exhaustedly greeted on the other end. Clearly, Alexis had woken her up.

"It's me. We're going out after I get off work tonight."

_"We are?" _she asked weakly. _"Fine then. Where to?"_

Alexis took a deep breath, then lowered her voice so the cabbie wouldn't hear. "Victoria's Secret."

_"Ooh, now you have my attention!"_

"Gwen, look, it's his birthday tomorrow, and I want to do something special. Purchasing something from there was the first thing that popped into my mind and I need your opinion on which…outfit I should get."

_"No problem! And what else are you getting him?"_

"I…don't know."

_"You don't know? Good lord, Alexis, his birthday is tomorrow! Aren't you usually one to plan ahead?"_

"Well, to be fair, I didn't even know when his birthday was until last week! Plus, I didn't want to get anything too early for fear of him finding it or becoming suspicious. Not that he isn't suspicious _now _considering how jumpy I was this morning."

_"So you have no clue what he wants?"_

"Not at all. Gwen, this is Sherlock. He hardly seems the type to celebrate birthdays in the first place. I thought about maybe getting him another shirt, but if I did I'd have to get him something else! Something that isn't as practical."

_"Oh, how romantic," _Gwen joked. _"I'll meet you there at 6:30. We'll need all the time we can get."_

"Thank you, Gwen. Love you."

_"Love you, too. Bye now."_

"Bye."

She hung up the phone. For the night that was to come, she had no idea what to expect.

* * *

July 19, 2011

Sherlock walked into his flat at 7:00 that night. He immediately could tell that there was something different. He took off his coat and placed it on the railing, slowly ascending the stairs to the living room. There was no one in sight.

"John?" he called, walking around and into the kitchen.

No answer from John.

"Alexis?" he then called.

"I'm in the bedroom," she responded.

He made the trek down to his bedroom and slowly opened the door. Alexis was standing up against the dresser wearing the same black dress she'd worn the first night she'd stayed over during the banker case.

"Hey," she greeted, slowly walking over to him.

"Hello," he replied.

She made her way over to him and rested her hands gently on his chest. Her closeness made him realize that she was wearing perfume; one that he'd not come across before.

"What perfume are you wearing?" he asked, completely focused on the scent. On her, it was absolutely delicious. He moved his head so his nose rested just behind her ear, inhaling deeply.

"Tresor, by Lancome," she said, biting her lip as he continued to smell her.

"It's nice," he whispered.

"And that's not all. Shut the door."

He pulled away and quickly pushed the door shut, whipping around as soon as he heard the zipper of her dress. She held intense eye contact with him as she pushed the straps from her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor. Sherlock forgot how to breathe.

She was wearing a lacy, pink, push-up bra with a matching tiny skirt. Seeing her in this, combined with the perfume and her sensual attitude made him want to attack her right then and there, but he wanted to see where this led first.

She slowly walked back towards him, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply.

"Happy birthday," she whispered.

He narrowed his eyes at her as soon as he heard the word "birthday".

"How did you-? Oh…Mycroft told you."

He bit off the last sentence, and Alexis put her hands on her hips as her head dropped.

"Sherlock-"

"Mycroft told you that today was my birthday, and so you went and did all this."

"Yes! And?!" She was staring at him in disbelief.

"Well, you wouldn't have known unless he'd told you, and now the apparent spontaneity of it all has been spoiled. How unfortunate."

"Damnit, Sherlock!" she yelled, her voice filling the whole flat. "Why are you being so ridiculous?! You're not even making sense!"

He was stunned by her sudden anger, this being apparent in his expression. She took a deep breath and continued more calmly.

"Sherlock, I am standing here in your bedroom wearing lingerie, prepared to do whatever I can to make you feel good. _Not _because of your brother, but because of _you. _This day isn't about Mycroft or me…it's about you. It's _your _birthday."

"And why would you be doing this specifically for my birthday? Why not do this on any other day?"

"Because, this is how couples usually celebrate each other's birthdays!"

"Well, given that I've hardly ever celebrated a birthday in my life, it seems absurd."

She crossed her arms, trying to think of what to say next. She then softened her expression and walked back over to him, pressing her body to his and wrapping a leg around one of his.

"Would this seem absurd on any other night?" she asked gently, stroking the back of his neck.

"Well," he said, his throat tightening from her proximity. "I suppose not. You do look…rather beautiful and…I for one wouldn't want any of this to go to waste."

"Good," she responded, smiling. "Now take your jacket off."

"What?" he asked, confused by her question as he was distracted by her altogether.

"Take off your jacket, and sit on the edge of the bed."

He complied and dropped his jacket to the floor. When he sat on the bed, she walked over to face him, still a few feet away.

"Roll up your sleeves. I love the way this shirt looks when you do that."

He'd been wearing his purple shirt, Alexis's favorite. He rolled up the sleeves, and she walked up to him.

"Lie back."

He automatically did as she told him from then on. She started off by removing his shoes and his socks slowly, letting them fall with a thump to the floor. Then came his trousers. She was sure to keep a hand firmly on his crotch the entire time, his erection slowly rising into her hand. She pulled them off and pressed a kiss to him on his boxers, his breath hitching in his throat before pulling them off. She climbed up and straddled his waist so she could unbutton his shirt, pushing him down when he went to pull it off his shoulders.

"Keep it on for now," she gently ordered, standing back on the floor. "Now move so you're lying long ways on the bed. It'll make things easier."

He did this, though he wasn't sure what her statement meant. She climbed back onto the bed and knelt over his knees. She lowered her head to his crotch.

"You know what I want to do to you, right?"

He sighed. "Yes. But you should know that-"

"Shhh," she cut him off, pressing her finger to his lips. "It's your birthday. I'd like to do this for you at least once. It's great; I know this from experience."

She ran a finger along his length, and he exhaled sharply.

"Fine. But just this once," he told her firmly. She pressed a kiss to his lips before returning her head between his legs.

She gripped him gently in her hand before lowering her mouth onto him. He groaned at the heat her mouth brought his member. Her head bobbed up and down on him a few times before applying her tongue, eliciting another moan from his throat. She licked him with a purpose, her tongue covering every inch of him. He groaned even louder when she touched his balls, squeezing them slightly just so they didn't go unnoticed. She gripped at his hips as her licking became faster, her mouth going deeper and deeper onto him. Soon, he felt his arousal begin to reach his peak and became nervous, knowing he would let her finish him this time but hating what the end result would be. Faster and harder she went, and he finally reached his climax with a loud moan, releasing himself into her mouth. She swallowed twice against him before pulling off and kissing him once and climbing back up his body. She kissed him on the cheek and snuggled close as he came down from his high.

"How was that?" she asked, laying a hand across his chest.

It took him a moment to answer, and he did so by pulling her in by the back of her head and kissing her. "You did that exceptionally well," he breathed.

She giggled and kissed him once more. "Now you know how I feel. Now, sit up."

He sat up against the pillows and she pulled the shirt off his shoulders, tossing it onto the floor. She pulled his legs apart so she could climb up and straddle him. She ran her hands along his chest and stomach, gazing at his body as she did so.

"God, you're so amazing," she told him.

He put a finger under her chin and gently pulled her up to look into his eyes. "You are amazing. And beautiful."

She smiled sweetly, resting her hands on either side of his face. "Sherlock…"

He pulled her close and kissed her. In one swift motion, he was up on his knees and laying them flat on the bed. He kissed her hungrily from her lips all the way down to her breasts, mouthing the more-pronounced tissue as he reached behind her to unclasp the bra. He threw it off to the side and continued down to her nipples, licking and sucking at them with haste. She moaned at the sensation, gripping the back of his head as she always did.

He moved further down her body, kissing every inch of skin he could before he reached her panties, briefly rubbing in between her legs before ripping them off of her. Immediately, his tongue dug into her folds and lapped at her hungrily. He reached behind her and gripped her backside as he pressed his entire mouth against her, Alexis screaming as he did so. It didn't take long for her to cum, as Sherlock was eager to return the favor she'd just done for him. He licked her all the way through the aftershocks, intensifying them.

He shot back up her body and kissed her once more, pulling her into his arms. He pulled his lips away just long enough to look into her eyes as he thrust into her. She arched her back, moaning loudly as Sherlock kissed her neck as he moved within her. She returned the thrusts with just as much force and pulled his face back up to kiss her. Their tongues soon broke the barrier of each other's lips and they tasted each other eagerly. Sherlock had wanted to go a bit slower, but his desire and love completely overtook him and he was now pounding into her. Alexis had to pull away to breathe, but was soon screaming more than anything. The two of them began to reach the top, moving desperately against each other so that they would reach it soon and together. She tightened around him and screamed, giving way to his own climax as he moaned her name loudly into her neck. They thrust more slowly through the aftershocks, kissing each other lightly. Finally, Sherlock pulled out and rolled onto his back, bringing her with him.

They basked in the afterglow, neither of them able to speak but simply concentrate on their breathing. Sherlock subconsciously tightened his hold on her, bringing her closer to him. She smiled and kissed his neck.

"That was nice," she said, snuggling into his chest.

"Indeed," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "Thank you."

"Of course."

They lay there in silence for a moment, but then Sherlock said something unexpected.

"Thirty-three."

She lifted her head up and looked at him with confusion. "What?"

"I'm thirty-three now."

She smiled. "Thanks for telling me."

"Well, you didn't know before. You never asked. I figure that age is something two people in a relationship should know about each other."

"I'd say so. And, you already know my age, so we're good now. Not that we weren't before."

"Hmm."

Alexis then remembered something and shot up in the bed. "Oh, I got you something, as well."

"Yes, I know. A shirt."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"But I'm you've chosen a good color."

She rolled her eyes and kissed him on the nose before getting out of the bed, not bothering to put on his shirt like usual. He watched as she knelt down and opened up the dresser drawer, pulling out a folded, dark blue, button-down shirt as well as a small box. He sat up as she returned to the bed, pulling the covers over her.

"It's a different color than you usually wear, but I thought it would match and that you would like it."

"I do. Thank you." He kissed her lightly on the lips, putting the shirt off to the side and staring down at the black box in her hand. "And this?"

"You're not going to guess what it is?"

"Well, I wouldn't be guessing considering I already know. But judging by the look on your face when I told you you got me a shirt, I could tell you wouldn't be pleased."

"Fine. Here."

She handed him the box, and he wasn't surprised when he opened it and found a watch.

"Just as I suspected," he said.

She nudged him in the side playfully. "I made sure to get the black band since all you ever wear is black. And the numbers are in numerals. I thought that was a bit different and that you'd appreciate that."

"It's a good watch. I was in need of a new one, anyway."

"And that's not all. Look on the back."

He pulled it from the box and turned it over. On it, there was an engraving.

_You've always been prompt, but this is just a token of gratitude. I love you. Alexis._

She bit her lip as he looked down at the watch, unable to read his expression.

"What do you mean by 'a token of gratitude'?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Well, I just meant that, from the beginning, you've always shown up right on time. And while a watch doesn't entirely portray how grateful I am, I guess I just thought the engraving was appropriate."

"You don't owe me anything, Alexis."

"Sherlock, I owe you my life. I will always be grateful for you saving me…not just from death, but…from being alone."

His heart filled with so much love. He put the watch on the nightstand and took her into his arms, kissing her tenderly. He rolled over onto her and proceeded to make slow, passionate love to her. She was his world, and he was just as grateful to have her in his life.


	26. Chapter 25

_**Amirizar2003 & Midnight Angel414: Hmmm, it's interesting that you would think that, though I completely understand where you're coming from. What I will tell you is that there will be some brief issues (*ahem* Irene *ahem*), but no permanent separation. I would never do that!**_

_**Also, I love it when people review! Please please PLEASE keep them coming!**_

* * *

July 31, 2011

Lestrade contacted Sherlock that day and asked him to come to Surrey. Sherlock mentioned something about a man found in a car boot just before he dashed out the door, John and Alexis following quickly behind. When they got there, Lestrade was waiting for them and proceeded to explain the situation.

"There was a plane crash in Dusseldorf yesterday," he began, leading them across an empty lot toward a small, blue car. "Everyone dead."

"Suspected terrorist bomb," Sherlock said. "We do watch the news."

"You said 'boring' and turned over," John retorted.

Alexis smirked, remembering that morning. However, that smirk fell when she saw a man's arm hanging out of the open trunk. Sherlock bent down and immediately started examining the body.

"Well, according to the flight details," Lestrade continued, "this man was checked in on board. Inside his coat he's got a stub from his boarding pass, napkins from the flight, even one of those special biscuits. Here's his passport, stamped in Berlin airport. So this man should have died in a plane crash in Germany, but instead he's in a car boot in Southwark."

"Lucky escape," John commented.

"Maybe at first," Alexis told him, watching Sherlock as he worked.

"Any ideas?" Lestrade asked.

"Eight so far," Sherlock responded. Suddenly, he stopped examining the man's hand with his magnifier and stiffened. "Okay, four ideas." He then took another look at the objects taken from the man's body, and his gaze slowly drifted to the sky. "Maybe two ideas."

Everyone looked at him with shock. He didn't have a clue as to what to make of this whole thing! Alexis rubbed the back of her neck nervously, knowing that the other two men were going to have a field day with this.

* * *

August 1, 2011

And that's exactly what happened the next day. It was about noon, and John decided to type up a new blog post entitled "Sherlock Holmes Baffled". He went into exaggerated detail of how Sherlock "hasn't got a clue! He's flummoxed! He's bamboozled!" Sherlock saw him writing this in the midst of an experiment (which involved a blow torch for whatever reason) and stopped to protest.

"No, no, no, don't mention the unsolved ones," he told him.

"People want to know you're human," John said.

Alexis wiped her hand over her face, knowing this was going to go south fast.

"Why?" Sherlock quickly asked, somewhat interested.

"Because they're interested."

"No, they're not. Why are they?"

John smiled. "Look at that. 1,895."

"Sorry, what?"

"I reset that counter last night. This blog has had nearly two thousand hits in the last eight hours. _This _is your living, Sherlock. Not 240 different types of tobacco ash."

Sherlock scowled. "Two hundred and forty-_three_." He restarted the blow torch and went back into the kitchen.

Alexis leaned forward in her chair. "You know he's going to get hell for this, John?"

"Oh yes," he replied, pressing "Enter" and submitting the post.

The next day, the overwhelming number of comments crashed his blog, so he printed off a few copies and then deleted them. He sent one of those copies to Lestrade, who promptly posted it in the canteen at Scotland Yard.

* * *

August 10, 2011

It was 5:30, and Sherlock was purposely going as slow as he could to get ready. Alexis noted this, her annoyance growing every time she heard him huff. The reason he was being so childish was because they were both attending a play that night entitled "Terror by Night". Gwen had recommended it to Alexis, giving it a glowing review, so she begged Sherlock for close to a week to take her. It was extremely difficult to convince him, but in the end he gave in once she started to kiss his neck. That always worked on him.

"It really is a waste of money," he called to her as she dressed herself in the bathroom. "We could easily enjoy a nice dinner in the flat and not have to deal with the crowds. People who go to the theater are just ghastly."

"Maybe so, but you agreed, and we're going."

She emerged from the bathroom dressed in a simple, curve hugging, red dress with three quarter sleeves. His expression softened.

"Well…it took you long enough," he commented. She strode over and whacked him with her clutch.

"Look who's talking! Now, come on! The play starts in an hour and I want a good seat."

He huffed and followed her down to the foyer, helping her into her coat before they walked outside and hailed a cab. When they got to the theater, there was a crowd of people standing outside on the sidewalk waiting to be let in. Sherlock snorted.

"You were afraid of getting a bad seat, but they won't even allow people in yet."

"Well, how was I supposed to know? It isn't like this with other plays!"

"Exactly, which proves that this wasn't a good idea and that we should leave at once."

He went to turn around, but Alexis pulled him back to her by the arm.

"Sherlock, you promised me you would do this," she scolded, looking intensely into his eyes. "How many times have I asked you to do something like this? I mean, we've never even gone to the cinema!"

"A happy reminder," he retorted.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Sherlock, this is just _one _night. Now, if it turns out the play was horrible, I'll say you were right and give you five minutes of bragging privileges and never make you do this again. Fair?"

He exhaled. "Very well."

"And no complaining during the play."

"You don't need to order my around like a child, Alexis."

"Fine." She reached up and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "And no matter which way tonight goes, I can promise you a treat when we get home."

She winked at him, and he couldn't help but smile. Just then, the doors opened, and Alexis took him by the hand and swiftly led him into the theater.

They managed to get halfway decent seats in the middle of the theater. There was an open seat on either side of them which greatly pleased Sherlock, though the gentleman coughing in front of him soon got on his nerves. Alexis squeezed his arm to gently calm him down.

The play soon started, and immediately Sherlock knew that it was going to be mediocre. Alexis, unfortunately, was thinking the same thing and was constantly staring over at him to make sure he wouldn't explode. He would sigh occasionally and rolled his eyes every five seconds, then finally slumped back in his seat once the scene in the tennis court started. However, he perked up once one of the actors, William Howells, referred to the actress Sarah Groenwegen by her real name. Alexis noticed this too, and became a little more attentive after that.

Everything went on smoothly after that, and Alexis was actually surprised that Sherlock didn't try to make a run for it during the interval. Once it started back up, she could tell that he was paying closer attention to what was going on. It confused her at first, but she soon realized why in the final scene.

Detective Sidney Paget, played by actor Matthew Michael, had summoned all of the other characters to the drawing room to reveal who had done the murder that occurred in scene one. Once Paget figured out that it was Albert, the son of victim Lady Margaret Chaplette, who killed her, Albert went into a fit of rage and struck Paget with a crutch. A crutch that was supposed to look aluminium but was really rubber. Or so they thought.

When Albert struck Paget, he obviously went down hard. He lay there for a moment, turning slightly before suddenly falling limp. At first, Alexis thought that this was part of the play. However, once the other actors started to become visibly nervous and rush over to him, it was soon realized that something had gone terribly wrong. A woman wearing very tight fitting clothes, the director apparently, then shouted for the curtains to be shut and the stage was soon out of sight. The audience was frantic. Everyone was talking worriedly to each other, wondering what had happened until a gentleman came out on stage in front of the curtain and addressed them.

"Ladies and gentleman, due to an unfortunate accident that has just occurred with one of our actors, we ask that you please exit the theater at once. Thank you."

He disappeared quickly behind the curtain, and the ushers immediately started to lead people from their seats and out into the foyer. Alexis looked over at Sherlock, who was now grinning and staring intently at the covered stage.

"Sherlock, what just happened?" she asked. He quickly rose from his seat and walked down the row and up the aisle, the exact opposite direction than everyone else was walking.

"Sherlock!" she called, trying to follow him but was stopped by an usher. She tried to move past him, but he was adamant in removing everyone from the theater. She groaned loudly and ran out into the foyer, pushing past people so she could reach the corner of the room and text Sherlock.

**What happened? Where did you go? They won't let me back in there!**

After a very long minute, he responded.

**Didn't you see? Matthew Michael was just murdered. I'm questioning the actors and the director. Wait for me.**

** How long will you be?**

** Unsure, though with what I've been able to deduce it shouldn't be more than half an hour.**

** And what am I supposed to do until then?**

** Phone John and tell him to come here at once.**

** He's on a date!**

** Fine, I'll phone him later. Just wait for me.**

She angrily threw her phone back into her purse and sank onto the bench next to the payphones.

After ten minutes, everyone had been cleared from the building and she was the only one left in the foyer. She sat with her elbow propped up on the arm of the bench, her cheek resting against her fist. At this point, she was fuming, and the usher that walked into the foyer from the theater didn't make her much happier.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave the theater now," he told her politely.

She didn't even bother to raise her head when she told him, "I'm waiting for someone, and I'd prefer not to be outside while doing so."

He nodded and walked back into the theater, knowing she wasn't amused and not wanting to cause an issue.

Half an hour later, just when Alexis's anger was about to boil over, Sherlock finally emerged from the theater with a huge smile on his face.

"You look happy," she commented.

He approached her, leaning down to rest his hands on either side of her head and kiss her deeply. "Oh, Alexis, it was brilliant."

"Brilliant? A man was killed. And I've been waiting here for almost an hour, not having a clue what just happened!"

"Not to worry, I'll explain it all to you on the cab ride home. I phoned John and left him a message telling him in full detail what just happened, so the police should be here straight away."

She rolled her eyes and walked swiftly out of the theater, leaving a confused Sherlock behind. He quickly followed her out and pulled her hand down to her side, as she'd been trying to hail a cab.

"Problem?" he asked, his eyes stern and questioning.

"Sherlock, I'm not happy. I just had to sit through that god awful play, only to be forced out by some oaf of an usher at the end while you ran off to have your fun solving a murder! You could have at least taken me with you!"

"So, you admit it was a mediocre play then?"

"Sherlock!"

"You wouldn't have been much help to me in there, and I can guarantee you would have gotten bored quickly."

"I'm pretty sure anything can beat staring at the wall across from you for forty minutes."

"Fine, but I don't think it's any reason to yell."

"Sherlock, it is the _perfect _reason to yell! I wanted just one night out, doing something different, but instead it ended with murder and boredom!"

"And it's my fault that this occurred?"

"It-!" She stopped, exhaling and staring down at her feet. She looked back up at Sherlock with a softer expression. "No, it's not. I'm sorry, I don't want to fight or anything. I can get over having to sit there for so long, but I don't know why I got so pissed off."

"Well, you _will _be reaching menstruation in your cycle next week, so perhaps your mood swings are starting to affect your behavior."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he immediately cleared his throat. "Oh look, the police have arrived."

On cue, they heard sirens and Alexis turned to find a number of police cars headed straight for the theater. They stepped off to the side as numerous cops rushed into the theater. Soon, they saw John and Lestrade emerge from one of the cars and walk straight toward them.

"Got your message," John greeted. "It was very…detailed."

"And extremely helpful," Lestrade added. "I couldn't have explained it better if I was there myself."

They walked back into the theater, and Alexis leaned in close to John.

"When you get the chance, I'd really like to listen to that message."

"Oh, it changed my life."

She giggled, and they walked back toward the stage.

Another half hour later, they'd finished doing what they were doing and headed toward the back entrance of the theater.

"There's a lot of press outside, guys," Lestrade told them.

"Well, they won't be interested in us," Sherlock replied, walking ahead of John and Alexis.

"Yeah, that was before you were an internet phenomenon. Couple of them specifically wanted photographs of you and John."

"For god's sake," Sherlock complained, looking back at John with disgust.

He suddenly stopped in front of a dressing room, looking in and grabbed two hats.

"John, cover your face and walk fast," he told him, throwing a brown hat at him and putting a dear stalker on his own head. "Alexis, go out the front entrance. No need for you to be caught up in this."

"Not a problem. Good luck."

"Still, it's good for the public image. A big case like this," Lestrade said.

"I'm a private detective. The last thing I need is a public image," Sherlock replied.

Lestrade opened the door, and immediately photographers started snapping multiple pictures of them. Alexis could see Sherlock try to cover his face with his coat just before Lestrade shut the door.

"He's not going to be happy," she told him.

"The price of fame," he said, leading her to the front of the building where only the police were allowed. She quickly got a cab and headed home for Baker Street, forgetting about her previous anger and dreading having to deal with Sherlock's complaining back at the flat.


	27. Chapter 26

_**MATURE content.**_

_**Alexis's birthday : ) And … "A Scandal in Belgravia"! One of my favorite chapters so far!**_

_**By the way, I've hit a record of having 822 views in one day! Thank you everyone!**_

_**Amirizar2003: Thank you! I wanted to add as much content as I could and I figured since I have info at my disposal why not? And you'll soon find out about her!**_

_**Midnight Angel414: Thank you thank you thank you! It means so much! I've read things like that as well so I'm really glad Alexis fits in well.**_

_**TheGirlWhoImagined: Hmm…I'm not sure. Something to think about.**_

_**Topaz16: : ) Thanks! Everyone's been wondering that, don't worry! But you'll all soon find out!**_

* * *

September 9, 2011

It was Alexis's twenty-seventh birthday, and she couldn't help but be a little happy about it. Unlike Sherlock, birthdays were something she always celebrated. However, from the moment she woke up until she left for work, Sherlock hadn't mentioned it once. She wasn't too nervous, though, because she knew it was something he wouldn't forget about. She was confident that she would come home to find that he'd planned something incredibly romantic for her.

At least, that's what she'd hoped.

A few of her colleagues took her out to lunch, everyone splitting the bill amongst themselves so she didn't have to pay at all. Even the new intern, Katharine, bought her a gift card to her favorite store in Harrods. Alexis knew she liked that girl.

Gwen called her up to enthusiastically wish her a "happy 27th" as well. This had occurred on Alexis's way home from work, and the slightly less enthusiastic tone in her voice served as warning bells going off in Gwen's head.

_"You don't sound very happy, Alexis. Anything wrong?"_

"No, of course not! It's just…nothing, it's probably nothing."

_"You can't lie to me, Lex. Not even over the phone. Now, what's bothering you?!"_

"Well, like I said, it's probably nothing. It's just that Sherlock didn't say anything about it being my birthday this morning."

_"Does he know it's your birthday?"_

"Yeah, he's known practically since we met."

_"He didn't forget, did he?"_

"No…at least, I don't think so. When it comes to me, he usually remembers this stuff."

_"Well, try not to worry! Maybe he's just going to surprise you and pretend he doesn't have a clue! Some guys like to do that, and it's very romantic in my opinion."_

"I hope you're right."

_"Aren't I always?"_

"Mostly."

_"I hope that boyfriend of yours gives you a good spanking for that attitude."_

"I hope so, too."

_"Oh, I think you've become dirtier than me! Now go and celebrate your birthday!"_

"I will. Thanks Gwen, love you."

_"Love you more. Bye now."_

She hung up the phone just as she was approaching the flat. She paid the cabbie and walked into the foyer, hanging up her coat and slowly walking up the stairs. When she entered the living room, she found Sherlock sitting in his chair reading a book.

"Hello," he greeted, not looking up from his book.

She scanned the room briefly before responding. "Hey. How was your day?"

"Fine. Nothing interesting happened. Yours?"

"Good. A few people from work took me out for lunch, but otherwise, business as usual."

"Did they? What for?"

She looked down at her feet uncomfortably. "For my birthday."

All of a sudden, he lowered the book onto his lap. His face paled even more so than usual and he tightened his throat. "Oh yes?" he asked nonchalantly.

Alexis took note of his reaction, and all the hope she had of him surprising her vanished. "You forgot, didn't you?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Alexis, I…"

"Sherlock, it's okay. It's fine. I mean, it's not like I said anything. And it's not like I expect you to remember something as mundane as my birthday. Hell, I didn't even know when yours was until six days beforehand!"

Her attempts at not sounding bitter failed, and she quickly walked back to the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She leaned up against the door, staring at the ceiling as she struggled to pull herself together. She couldn't help but be upset that he forgot her birthday. It was an important day for her! It was a day that she wanted to celebrate with him, and it was something she hoped he would even somewhat care about.

She kicked off her shoes and pushed them off to the side. She walked over to the dresser and opened the sock drawer, wanting to get comfortable immediately. However, when she opened the drawer, she was shocked to discover that it was empty. Empty, that is, except for a small, blue box placed in the center of it. She furrowed her brow in confusion, but her curiosity led her to pick up the box and slowly pulled open the lid. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

Inside the box was a heart-shaped sapphire necklace on a silver chain with diamonds outlining the stone. Besides the fact that it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she'd ever seen, it was also something she'd been wanting for months, but she couldn't afford it.

She instantly knew why it was there, and when she turned around to rush back into the living room, she was met by the sight of Sherlock standing in his doorway. He was holding a bouquet of blue orchids.

"It matches your eyes perfectly," he told her.

She rushed over to him and hugged him tight. He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her torso, being careful as to not crush the orchids. She pulled away and looked up at him with grateful disbelief.

"How did you know I wanted this?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"When I stayed over at your flat a few months ago, I saw a magazine open to the jewelry section on your kitchen counter. You had a few items circled, but this one had the darkest circle on the page."

"It's my birthstone. I…I love it."

"I knew you would."

He brought the orchids back around and handed them to her. She took hold of them and inhaled their scent deeply.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry. I-I honestly thought you'd forgotten."

She stared down at the floor, ashamed of herself, but he placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up to his.

"I couldn't forget something like this. It's important to you, so I stored it away until I needed to remember."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"Happy birthday."

She leaned up and kissed him tenderly, wrapping her arms around his neck. He picked her up bridal style and carried her the short distance over to the bed. When he laid her down, he took the flowers from her and placed them on the nightstand.

"We wouldn't want them to mixed up in this, now would we?" he said.

Alexis giggled and pulled him back down on top of her, kissing him more frantically than before. She blindly undid the button of his jacket and struggled as she attempted to push it off his shoulders. He then sat up and removed it quickly, along with his shirt. He got up off of the bed and removed his trousers and socks, purposely leaving his boxers on. She moaned slightly when he lifted one of her legs and rested her foot against his chest, grinning down at her as he removed her stocking.

He repeated the same action with the other leg and got back on the bed, kneeling over her. She made a move to reach up and kiss him, but he gently grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back onto the mattress.

"There will be none of that, now. Tonight, it's my turn."

His tone was gentle but sinister, and it made Alexis's need for him grow stronger. Thankfully, he wasted no time in leaning down to kiss her hard on the mouth, his tongue gently passing through the barrier of her lips. He tasted her with a purpose, slowly moving his hand up to cup a breast as he did so. Her breath hitched but she never faltered in the kiss.

He un tucked her purple blouse from her black tube skirt, pulling his lips away for a moment to pull it over her head. She stayed sitting up as he undid the zipper of her skirt and pulled it off of her, leaving her in her purple bra and panties. A blush rose to her cheeks as his eyes scanned over her body, his expression virtually unreadable. How he managed to make her nervous like this after months of sex was beyond her, but her nerves calmed when he looked back into her eyes and smiled.

"Lovely," he whispered, leaning back down to kiss her.

She threaded her hands through his hair as his lips moved downward. He lingered at her neck for a moment before travelling to her shoulders and her collarbone, sucking the skin there. She attempted to sit up and reach behind her to unclasp her bra, but he pulled away and looked at her with intense eyes, silently willing her to lie back down. Grinning, he immediately did away with her bra and slowly pulled it down her arms, tossing it onto the floor. He cupped the both of them with his hands, pressing down gently and squeezing them. Alexis bit her lip as he did so, and couldn't help but pull her body up when his mouth made contact with her nipple.

"Sherlock, I- oh!" she breathed, burying her hands deep in his hair as he licked and sucked at her. She moaned loudly, as his administrations were more intense than usual. At one point, it felt like he encompassed her entire breast with his mouth. He alternated breasts a few more times before moving further down her body, this time kissing and nipping lightly at her ribs and sides. When he reached her stomach just above her underwear, he mouthed at the skin once as he slowly pulled the garment from her legs, leaving her completely naked in front of him. Immediately, he began to lap at her folds, earning more moans from her. However, she whimpered in confusion when he suddenly stopped and moved back up her body.

"I want to do something a little different. Something we've done a few times before," he told her.

Before she could ask him what it was, she felt the familiar sensation of two long fingers slowly pushing into her. She let out a long, loud moan, pleasing Sherlock as he wrapped his left hand around the back of her neck and slowly leaned in to kiss her. As he gently probed in and out of her, he brought his thumb up to her clit and moved it against her, causing her to tear her lips from his and gasp. He smiled at this, returning his lips to her neck so as to allow her to give voice to her pleasure and not suffocate from lack of oxygen. Her wetness grew as his fingers continued to pleasure her, and not thirty seconds later were her muscles tightening around him as she screamed through her climax. He smiled into her neck and slowly pulled his fingers from her, wiping them on the sheets and bringing both his hands up to hold her head and kiss her tenderly.

"We should do that more often," Alexis whispered, Sherlock chuckling. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held her close to him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He was content to lie with her like this for a moment, but he raised his head when he felt her throat tightening a bit. He looked up and saw that her eyes were squeezed shut, as if to keep from crying.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Her eyes shot open, a tear begrudgingly escaping down her cheek. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

"Why are you crying?" he asked, wiping the tear away.

She rolled her eyes and sat up. "God, I don't know! I hate to cry in front of you like this, but my body just won't stop making the tears come out!"

A few more tears escaped her eyes, and Sherlock stroked them away with his thumbs. "Did I hurt you?" he asked her nervously.

"No! God, no! Don't ever think that!" she exclaimed, pulling him back to her in a tight embrace. "I just get so emotional sometimes, and it always comes out in tears. It's just…I love you so much, and sometimes it's just so overwhelming that I cry. And I hate it! I don't want you to see me cry."

"Because you see it as a sign of weakness," he pointed out.

"Sort of. God, I'm sorry. It's supposed to be a good day, and I'm fucking it up."

"No, you're not," he said, pulling away to look at her. "You only ever cry when you're completely overwhelmed by your emotions, and it doesn't happen very often. You do this because you're very passionate and have a huge heart. Though it still escapes me why you love me this much, it's still endearing."

She looked at him with sad eyes. "Sherlock…"

She pulled his face to hers and kissed him once more. He rolled over on top of her and they proceeded to make slow, tender love. They moved in perfect sync with each other, prolonging the arousal but just enough so it wasn't painful for either of them. Sherlock held her close the entire time, doing anything to physically show her how much he loved her. They reached their climax together, and curled up close to one another as they drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

September 10, 2011

Alexis stirred first the next morning, smiling as she remembered the events of the night before. She pressed a kiss to Sherlock's chest and moved up gently to kiss his neck. He woke up with a few confused moans before chuckling and wrapping his arm back around her waist.

"Morning," he muttered, moaning slightly at the feeling of her lips against his skin.

"Good morning," she replied innocently, smiling wide as she moved her body to lie directly on top of him. He moved his hands to rest at the small of her back as she leaned her chin on her hand against his chest.

"Eager this morning, aren't we?" he teased, earning a few giggles from her.

"Well…last night left me feeling very…inspired," she said, pressing another kiss to his chest. "I'm still experiencing the after effects, but I'm worried we won't ever be able to recreate it."

He grinned devilishly at her, moving his hands up to the base of her spine. "Hmm…well, we'll never know unless we do a little…experimenting."

With that, he quickly flipped them over, Alexis yelping as he did so. The two of them laughed and he pressed his lips to hers, a few giggles still escaping each other's lips. They tightened their grip on each other, and it appeared that Sherlock was positioning himself to move straight into her. However, this action was short lived as soon as they heard Mrs. Hudson's voice.

"Boys! You've got another one!"

Sherlock immediately straightened up, groaning as he looked down at Alexis. Their plans would have to wait until later, and he made a move to get out of the bed.

"Sherlock, what does she mean? Is she alright?" Alexis asked, sitting up.

"She's fine. We have a case."

As he stood up, he pulled the white sheet from the bed along with him and wrapped it around his body. Alexis immediately pulled the comforter over her to cover herself. Her eyes went wide when he turned the door handle.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?!"

"Going out to greet our client," he replied nonchalantly.

"You're not going to put on clothes?!"

"Well, seeing as whoever it was has showed up unannounced and has interrupted our activities, they will just have to deal with it. Besides, I'm not in the mood for putting on a suit."

He opened the door and walked out, shutting it behind him. Alexis merely stared at the opposite wall in disbelief, unable to process that Sherlock was going to greet a client in a bed sheet.

* * *

After her shock subsided, she showered and put on a white cardigan sweater with a white undershirt and black pants so at least _she _would look presentable for the client. When she walked out into the living room, there was a large gentleman sat in a chair in the middle of the room. Sherlock was sitting across from him (wearing the sheet), and John was sitting in on the couch behind the man. Alexis walked into the room, making eye contact with John. His expression proved that they were thinking the exact same thing about Sherlock's ensemble.

"Oh, hello miss," the man greeted politely, but shakily.

"Hi," she replied, smiling.

"Go on, Mr. Horton," Sherlock instructed him firmly.

Alexis went and took a seat next to John.

"Right. Anyway, I looked up, and he's suddenly out of sight. But, when I looked closer, he-"

"Yes?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"He…was on the ground. I repeatedly asked him if he was alright, but there was no answer. I ran over to him and found him in a pool of blood, so I went back to the main road on foot where I could get service and phone the police. And now, here I am."

"And the police are at the crime scene right now, I suppose?" he asked, though he already knew they were there. "John, phone Lestrade and tell him you need to examine the crime scene. Get a cab there straight away, and take your laptop."

"My laptop? What for?" he asked, confused.

"Because I won't be leaving the flat for this investigation. All I need is for you to point the laptop in the right direction at the scene and I'll figure it out from there."

"You're not serious."

"I'm always serious, John."

John sighed, grabbing his coat and laptop and heading down the stairs. "See you later."

"Bye, John," Alexis called after him.

Sherlock rose from his chair and walked into the kitchen, pulling the sheet up just enough so he could walk. "Well, in the meantime, anyone up for coffee?"

"Oh, no thank you, Mr. Holmes," Mr. Horton told him.

"Sure," Alexis said.

"Good. Come help me make it, Alexis. And bring my laptop."

She tightened her lips and grabbed his laptop from the table, smiling at Mr. Horton before disappearing into the kitchen.

"So, what happened exactly? This gentleman found some guy dead in the middle of a field?" Alexis asked him.

"Precisely, though he wasn't dead when he arrived. His car broke down on the side of the road, he saw the man when he first got out, turned his head for a moment, then looked back to find him dead."

"And why couldn't you go to the scene personally?"

"Because this is a 6."

"A what?"

"A 6 on a scale of 1 to 10 in how interesting this crime is. There's no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a 7."

"Right…"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Alexis's phone rang.

_"Alexis, it's John. I'm here. Tell Sherlock to have his laptop ready."_

She quickly went and opened up Skype on the laptop.

"Done."

_"Good. Now, I should tell you that Lestrade isn't in charge of this case. It's a Detective Inspector Carter."_

"Okay, that shouldn't be a problem. Thanks John."

She hung up the phone, and John's face immediately popped up on the screen of the laptop.

_"Hello again,"_ he greeted. _"Where's Sherlock?"_

"Bathroom. Should be coming out right…now."

On cue, Sherlock walked into the kitchen with his coffee mug.

_"You realize this is a tiny bit humiliating?" _John commented.

Sherlock yawned, grabbing the laptop. "It's okay, I'm fine. Now, show me to the stream."

_"I didn't really mean for you."_

They walked out into the living room, and Sherlock sat down at the table. "Look, this is a six. As I explained to Alexis earlier, there's no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven. We all agreed. Now, go back, show me the grass."

_"When did we agree that?"_

"We agreed it yesterday. Stop. Closer."

John held the laptop still just before the stream, then turned it back around so it was facing him. "_I wasn't even at home yesterday. I was in Dublin."_

Alexis peered at him behind Sherlock and mouthed "I don't know."

"It's hardly my fault you weren't listening," he muttered.

The doorbell rang, apparently for the third time, and Sherlock turned around to yell, "Shut up!"

_"Do you just carry on talking when I'm away?"_

Alexis stifled a giggle.

Sherlock looked at her briefly before turning back to John. "I don't know. How often are you away? Now, show me the car that backfired."

John turned the laptop back around and showed him a little blue car off in the distance.

"That's the one that made the noise, yes?"

He turned it back around to face him again. "_Yeah. If you're thinking gunshot, there wasn't one. He wasn't shot, he was killed by a single blow to the back of the head from a blunt instrument, which then magically disappeared, along with the killer. It's got to be an eight, at least."_

Sherlock leaned back in his chair and put his finger to his lips. He was in deep thought.

Detective Inspector Carter walked up alongside John and looked at the computer screen.

"_You've got two more minutes, they want to know more about the driver," _he said.

"Oh, forget him, he's an idiot. Why else would he think himself a suspect?" Sherlock said.

_"_I _think he's a suspect."_

Sherlock leaned in close to the screen. "Pass me over."

_"Alright, but there's a mute button, and I _will _use it," _John told him. He handed the laptop to Carter, accidentally pointing it to face his stomach.

"Up a bit! I'm not talking from down here!"

_"Okay. Just take it, take it."_

John walked off, and Sherlock proceeded to explain himself to Carter.

"Having driven to an isolated location and successfully committed a crime without a single witness, why would he then call the police and consult a detective? Fair play?"

"_He's trying to be clever. It's over-confidence," _Carter told him.

He sighed. "Did you see him? Morbidly obese, the undisguised halitosis of a single man living on his own. The right sleeve of an internet porn addict, and the breathing pattern of an untreated heart condition. Low self esteem, tiny I.Q., and a limited life expectancy. You think he's an audacious criminal mastermind?" He turned around briefly to address Mr. Horton. "Don't worry, this is just stupid."

"What did you say? Heart what?" Mr. Horton asked, clearly alarmed.

Alexis looked over at him and mouthed "I'm sorry."

Sherlock turned back around. "Go to the stream."

_"What's in the stream?" _Carter asked, looking back towards it.

"Go and see."

Just then, Mrs. Hudson walked into the living room with two gentlemen in suits.

"Sherlock! You weren't answering your doorbell!" she told him.

"Miss Gilmore, would you mind retrieving some clothes for Mr. Holmes?" the darker skinned man asked Alexis.

"Who the hell are you?" Sherlock asked.

"Sorry, Mr. Holmes," he said, shutting the laptop. "You're coming with us. Miss Gilmore, please."

She shot a worried look at Sherlock, who nodded. She ran back to the room and quickly grabbed one of his suits, a black undershirt, socks, pants, and finally his shoes. She folded them all and quickly returned to the living room, setting them on the table. Sherlock merely glared at the clothing.

"Please, Mr. Holmes, where you're going you'll want to be dressed," he told them.

Sherlock turned around in his seat and looked him up and down. Alexis knew that he was analyzing him and would no doubt figure out who he was.

"Oh, I know exactly where I'm going."


	28. Chapter 27

_**The moment you've all been waiting for! Though there won't be much Alexis/Irene interactions (at least not yet), it's still gonna be good! Enjoy!**_

_**Midnight Angel414: 3 : ) Aww that's sweet! & hell who wouldn't want to see that?**_

_**Topaz16: I think you know the answer to at least one of those questions ;)**_

_**Amirizar2003: Yay I love them too!**_

_**Fanfreak4ever: Personally, I would have ripped the sheet the rest of the way off and took him right there if I were Alexis XD**_

* * *

Alexis couldn't believe her ears when Sherlock told her they were going to Buckingham Palace. She was convinced it was all a joke until the car they were escorted in pulled right up in front of the huge, beautiful building. However, knowing this was a reality made her all the more mortified that Sherlock was still only wearing his sheet.

They were taken to a large room with two couches and a chandelier and were told to wait there. The two of them sat in silence for a moment, Sherlock bored out of his mind and Alexis fighting the urge not to scold him for his stupidity. Five minutes later, the sound of footsteps emanated throughout the hall and they turned their heads to find John standing in the large doorway. He held his hands out to his sides in question, and they merely shrugged.

He took a seat on the other side of Alexis, and the silence continued. John looked about the room for a bit, then over to Sherlock. His eyes slowly drifted down to his legs, and he leaned over with a questioning expression.

"Are you wearing any pants?" he asked, turning back to face the opposite wall.

"No," Sherlock replied casually.

"Okay."

The three of them looked at each other and immediately started giggling. Despite how horrified Alexis was before, at this point, it was just plain funny.

"At Buckingham Palace," John said, clearing his throat. "Right. I am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray."

Alexis and Sherlock continued to giggle. John took a deep breath and continued.

"What are we doing here, Sherlock? No, seriously, what?"

"I don't know."

"Here to see the queen, maybe?" Alexis asked.

Right on cue, Mycroft strode into the room. Sherlock couldn't resist.

"Oh, apparently yes."

The three of them burst into full-on laughter, Mycroft sticking his nose in the air at their childish behavior. Alexis had to grip Sherlock's sheet-covered arm for fear of falling off the couch.

"Just once, can the three of you behave like grownups? Mycroft scolded, walking further into the room.

"We solve crimes, I blog about it, and he forgets his pants? I wouldn't hold out too much hope," John told him. "Except maybe for Alexis."

She smiled.

"I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft," Sherlock told him.

"What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report, a bit obvious, surely?"

"Transparent."

"Time to move on then."

John and Alexis exchanged confused glances as Mycroft picked up the pile of Sherlock's clothes. Sherlock merely stared at them, as he did back at his flat.

Mycroft sighed. "We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on."

"What for?"

"Your client."

He stood up. "And my client is?"

"Illustrious, in the extreme."

A new voice was heard and another gentleman walked into the room. John and Alexis stood up.

"…and remaining, I have to inform you, entirely anonymous." He looked at Mycroft and smiled. "Mycroft."

"Harry," Mycroft greeted, shaking the man's hand. "May I just apologize for the state of my little brother?"

"A full-time occupation, I imagine." He turned to John. "And this must be Dr. John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers."

"Hello, yes," John replied, shaking the man's hand.

"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog."

"Your employer?"

"Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminium crutch."

"Thank you."

"And Miss Alexis Gilmore, Sherlock Holmes's significant other." Harry shook her hand as well. "I've taken my family through your tour of the Gallery on more than one occasion. They rather enjoy your explanation of the Jacob Ochtervelt painting."

"Oh, well thank you very much." She smiled politely at him.

Harry walked around the table to greet Sherlock. "And Mr. Holmes the younger, you look taller in your photographs."

"I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend. Mycroft, I don't do anonymous clients. I'm used to mystery at one end of my cases, both ends is too much work. Good morning."

He started to walk out of the room, but Mycroft stepped on a loose end of his sheet. Had Sherlock not caught it when he did, he would have been stark naked, but he was able to wrap it just around his stomach in time. Alexis couldn't help but blush at the brief sight of his backside.

"This is a matter of national importance. Grow up!" Mycroft scolded.

"Get off my sheet!" Sherlock ordered.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll just walk away."

"I'll let you."

"Boys, please, not here," John interjected.

"Who. Is. My. Client?" Sherlock asked through gritted teeth.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God's sake-!" He started to raise his voice to a yell, but looked back at Harry and contained himself. "-put your clothes on!"

Sherlock took a deep breath. He knew he couldn't refuse this anymore, so he turned around to fetch his clothes. Alexis quickly handed them to him, shooting him a grateful look, and walked off to another room to change.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the five of them were sitting back on the couches, ready to have tea that was prepared for them.

"I'll be mother," Mycroft joked, pouring Harry a cup.

"And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell," Sherlock commented, earning a pointed look from his brother. Alexis stifled a giggle.

"My employer has a problem," Harry began.

"A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature," Mycroft explained. "And in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen."

"Why? We have a police force of sorts, even a marginally secret service. Why come to me?" Sherlock asked.

"People do come to you for help, don't they, Mr. Holmes?" Harry asked.

"Not to date anyone with a navy."

"This is a matter of the highest security and therefore of trust," Mycroft told him.

"You don't trust your own secret service?" John asked.

"Naturally not. They all spy on people for money."

"I do think we have a timetable," Harry said.

"Yes, of course." He pulled out a briefcase and opened it on his lap, pulling out a large photograph and handing them to Sherlock. "What do you know about this woman?"

"Nothing whatsoever," Sherlock said, staring at a picture of a woman's face. She was wearing a lot of makeup, and was definitely _not _smiling.

"Then you should be paying more attention. She's been at the center of two political scandals in the last year, and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist, by having an affair with both participants separately."

"You know I don't concern myself with trivia. Who is she?"

"Irene Adler. Professionally known as 'The Woman'."

"Professionally?" Alexis asked, staring intently at the photo.

"There are many names for what she does. She prefers dominatrix."

"Dominatrix," Sherlock mused, as if he didn't know what the word meant.

"Don't be alarmed. It's to do with sex," Mycroft said smugly.

"Sex doesn't alarm me."

Mycroft looked at him with a smug grin, then glanced over at Alexis. "Hmm, it would appear not considering the small mark forming on Alexis's neck."

Alexis's eyes went wide with embarrassment as everyone turned to stare at her neck. She glared at Mycroft as she brought her hair forward, hiding her neck. Sherlock glared at him just as intently.

"She provides, shall we say, recreational scolding for those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it. These are all from her website."

He handed Sherlock about five more photographs and he began to skim through them. Alexis looked over his shoulder, disgust written all over her face. This woman was obviously a very high end prostitute, as her poses were extremely suggestive and looked quite painful. However, she had to admit that this woman could definitely be considered sexy.

"And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs?" Sherlock deduced.

"You're very quick, Mr. Holmes," Harry said.

"Hardly difficult deduction. Photographs of _whom_?"

Mycroft and Harry looked at each other, then Harry continued. "A person of…significance to my employer. We prefer not to say anymore at this time."

Sherlock threw the photos back on the table in frustration.

"You can't tell us anything?" John checked.

Mycroft took a deep breath. "I can tell you it's a young person. A young _female _person."

There was a tense silence for a moment, then Sherlock smirked.

"How many photographs?" he asked.

"A considerable number, apparently."

"Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photographs together?"

"Yes, they do."

"And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios?"

"An imaginative range, we are assured."

"John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now."

Apparently, John had been sitting with his cup in the air for some time, much to Sherlock and Alexis's amusement. He promptly set the cup and saucer back on the table.

"Can you help us, Mr. Holmes?" Harry asked him.

"How?"

"Will you take the case?"

"What case? Pay her, now and in full. As she remarks in her masthead, know when you are beaten."

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "She doesn't want anything. She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favor."

"Oh, a power play. A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Oh, this is getting rather fun, isn't it?"

"Sherlock," John warned.

Alexis smiled.

"Hmm. Where is she?"

"In London, currently," Mycroft said. "She's staying-"

"Text me the details, I'll be in touch by the end of the day."

The three of them got up and started to walk out of the room.

"Do you really think you'll have news by then?" Harry asked him.

"No, I think I'll have the photographs."

"One can only hope you're as good as you seem to think."

Sherlock kept a placid face as his eyes scanned over him, Alexis knowing full well that he was learning his life story right then and there.

"I'll need some equipment, of course," Sherlock said, looking at his brother.

"Anything you require, I'll have it sent over."

"Can I have a box of matches?" he asked Harry quickly, holding out his hand.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, confused.

"Or you cigarette lighter, either will do."

"I don't smoke."

"No, I know you don't, but your employer does."

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, pulling out the box of matches and placing it in Sherlock's hand. "We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr. Holmes."

"I'm not the Commonwealth."

With that, he turned on his heel and headed out of the room.

"And that's as modest as he gets. Pleasure to meet you," John concluded, following him out of the room.

"Likewise," Alexis added, following suit.

"Laters!" Sherlock called back. Alexis couldn't help but giggle at this.

* * *

The three of them were silent for the first half of the cab ride home until John spoke up.

"Okay, the smoking, how did you know?"

"The evidence was right under your nose, John, as ever you see but do not observe."

"Observe what?"

"An ashtray."

He pulled out a large, glass ashtray from his coat and flipped it once in his hand. The three of them laughed again. It had been a really interesting day.

When they arrived back at the flat, Sherlock immediately ran up to his room and started trying on different costumes for his encounter with Irene Adler. Alexis was sat on the bed, watching in amusement as John sat out in the kitchen drinking coffee.

He'd tried on multiple things, throwing each aside after he briefly looked at himself in the mirror.

"What are you doing?" John asked as he heard clothing hit the wall.

"I'm going into battle, John. I need the right armor." He put on a neon police jacket, then quickly ripped it off. "No."

"Sherlock, I don't think you want to be too obvious, you know? Be subtle with your disguise," Alexis said, staring at all the garments on the floor.

He looked at her briefly. "You're right." He walked over to his dresser and pulled something out of one of the drawers and stuffed it into his pocket. "This should do it."

He put his own jacket back on and walked out of the room. "John, we're going now."

He sighed and put down his coffee. "Alexis, you coming?"

"No, my assistance isn't really needed on this case. I mean, what could I possibly have to offer?"

"Well…they did say she was with a _female _person, so I mean…" He wasn't exactly sure where he was going with that statement, but it did manage to make her feel uncomfortable and earn a roll of the eyes from Sherlock.

"Anyway…have fun!" she told them, kissing Sherlock good bye and quickly returning to his bedroom to straighten up the clothing.

* * *

Two hours later, Alexis was having a sandwich from Speedy's in the living room as she watched T.V. She suddenly heard the front door open and shut the T.V. off, standing up and going to greet Sherlock and John. However, when she rounded the corner to the second set of steps, she was met with the sight of Sherlock being supported by two policemen, his head hanging downward.

"Oh my God, what happened to him?!" she frantically asked as she rushed down the stairs to him, holding his face in her hands. She pulled him up to face her, but his eyes were completely out of focus. He moaned a little.

"Irene Adler stuck him with something," John told her, walking over to her side. "He's going to be just fine, but he'll be out of it for a while. Most of the day, probably."

"She poisoned him?!"

"No, it's just some type of drug that's going to render him immobile and not very lucid. He just needs to sleep."

The two policemen slowly brought him up the stairs as carefully as they could, Alexis and John at their heels. They deposited him in his bed, and John and Alexis thanked them as they made Sherlock more comfortable.

"I'll get him out of his jacket and shoes. You bring up the covers for him," Alexis instructed, gently pulling him out of his jacket. It was a difficult task considering he was lying down, but she managed it nonetheless. She took his shoes off and placed them on the opposite side of the room as John pulled the sheet over him. She walked back over and kissed Sherlock on the forehead.

"I'm here if you need me," she whispered against his skin.

He soon drifted off to sleep, and John gently ushered her out of the room so he could relax. As soon as he shut the bedroom door, Alexis immediately interrogated him.

"I want to know everything that happened, John."

"Alright, Alexis, just calm down and-"

"Don't tell me to calm down John!" she ordered in a fierce whisper. "Sherlock is in there, completely incapacitated and I have no idea why! Now tell me!"

"Okay, well we got to her place and Sherlock was able to figure out where the photos were straight away. However, we got a little side tracked when three C.I.A. agents came and threatened to kill us unless Sherlock opened the safe where Irene kept the photos."

"C.I.A. agents? John, what the hell?"

"I know. Anyway, we took them down, Sherlock found the photographs, but she got the drug in him when neither of us was looking, and she got a way."

"Oh my god…" A worried look spread across her face.

"Hey, come on." John spoke softly to her as he pulled her into a hug. "He's going to be fine. He's Sherlock."

"I know, but still…this never happens, John."

"I know. This woman, she's damn clever."

Alexis scowled into his shoulder.

After John had gotten her to calm down, they sat in the kitchen and discussed the day's events further.

"What I still don't understand is why there were C.I.A. agents there. What could they possibly want with those photographs anyway?" she told him.

"Well, all I know is that she kept them on a phone. Maybe there's more on the phone than just pictures."

"Makes sense. I think it's kind of amazing that you were able to take down federal agents, though."

He smirked. "Wasn't too hard. One of them got shot and killed by a gun in Irene's safe, a booby trap. She and Sherlock took down the other two quickly."

"So this woman can fight?"

"At least some, yeah. Why are you so curious about her?"

"Well considering she just drugged the man I love, I'd like to know what she's all about. I'm well aware that she's a prostitute, but she appears to be quite clever and know things that she shouldn't. This morning's case, for example. It's not even in the news yet!"

"She told us she knew because she knows what one of the policemen 'likes'."

"Typical whore."

John looked down at the table uncomfortably. "She knows about you, too."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What about me, exactly?"

"She didn't say much, only that she knows you're Sherlock's girlfriend and that you seem…sweet."

"Sweet? Was she taunting me?"

"Most likely." He looked up at the ceiling as he took another sip of coffee.

"Bitch. This woman is obviously dangerous."

"Because of what she has, yes. And she's certainly not afraid to show it."

His tone confused her, as if he wasn't talking about the same thing she was.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean 'what do I mean?'"

"You're not talking about the photographs, are you?"

"Yes, I am."

"Then why are you talking so fast?"

"Because you are."

"John!"

"Alright, fine. Now, don't get mad and just know that Sherlock didn't care in the slightest, but when she first introduced herself, she…"

He was obviously uncomfortable with what he had to say, but Alexis was too impatient to take pity.

"She what, John?"

"Well, let's just say she…wasn't wearing much."

The same look of disgust she had earlier that day returned to her face. "You mean to tell me that she was wearing lingerie in front of you two?"

"Not exactly…"

"Then what exactly? John, I want answers here! I'm sorry if I'm being testy, but I'm pissed off!"

"Okay. Well, when I walked into the room, I saw her standing in front of Sherlock, and…she wasn't wearing…anything."

She stared at him in disbelief, fighting back the urge to vomit. He half expected her to start screaming, but to his surprise (and dismay), she lowered her voice down to almost a whisper.

"So you're telling me that this…woman was standing not two inches away from my boyfriend…naked?"

"Yeah."

"I don't even know what to say to that."

"Well, he gave her his coat to put around her, so we didn't have to deal with that for very long."

Her eyes widened slightly, prompting John to realize that he'd made things worse.

"_His _coat?" she asked simply. John struggled to figure out what to say next, but was thankful when Alexis rose from the table and said, "I'm going to go watch T.V. now."

She practically slammed the sliding doors to the kitchen shut. John merely sat there, hoping Sherlock wouldn't kick his ass for saying too much.

* * *

"John! Alexis!"

The sound of Sherlock's voice at 8:00 p.m. made Alexis jump from her chair and run full speed into his room. John was already standing in the doorway when she arrived and they watched as he fell head first out of the bed with a grunt.

"Sherlock!" Alexis gasped. She wanted to lunge in there and grab him, but she knew he was alright and didn't want to fuss over him.

"You okay?" John asked calmly.

"How did I get here?" Sherlock asked groggily as he focused in on the two of them, leaning on his hand.

"Well, I don't suppose you remember much. You weren't making a lot of sense," John told him. "Oh, I should warn you, I think Lestrade filmed you on his phone."

"He what?" Alexis asked angrily. John merely shrugged as Sherlock rose to his feet. He began to wander around the room.

"Where is she?"

"Where's who?"

"The woman. That woman."

"What woman?"

"_The _woman. The _woman _woman."

"Oh, Irene Adler! She got away, no one saw her." He watched as Sherlock stumbled over to his window, staring out of it. "She wasn't here, Sherlock."

Sherlock turned on his heel and stumbled back onto the ground.

"What are you doing?" John asked, knowing he had to go in and help him at this point. He walked over to him as he started to crawl towards the bed, not using his legs.

"No, no, no, no," John said, grabbing Sherlock's torso and hoisting him back onto the bed. "Back to bed. You'll be fine in the morning. Just sleep."

"Of course I'll be fine. I am fine. I'm _absolutely _fine," Sherlock told him as they exited the room.

"Yes, you're great. Now, we'll be next door if you need us."

"Why would I need you?" he said, referring to John rather than Alexis.

"No reason at all."

With that, he shut the door and they went back out into the kitchen.

"Well, he's much better now," John said.

"But he's still not lucid," Alexis told him. She bit her lip and looked back at the door. "I don't want him to be alone in there. I'm going to go stay with him."

"Alright. I'll be up for a while, so if you need anything…"

"Thanks, John. Good night."

"Night, Alexis."

She walked down the hall and slowly opened the door. She was immediately startled by a loud thud coming from behind it, and peaked around to find Sherlock on the floor with his phone in his hand.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" she asked, kneeling by him and taking hold of his arms.

"I told you I'm fine," he slurred. "I was checking my phone."

"Well, there's nothing on your phone. Come on, let's get you into bed."

She guided him up to his feet and held his torso as she walked him to the bed.

"Do you want me to help you get more comfortable? Should I get your pajamas?" she asked him.

"No, I don't want to wear those."

"Shall I just take off your shirt and trousers, then?"

"Fine."

She took off both garments and set them on the floor, then gently pushed his chest so that he was lying back on the bed.

"I have to change into my nightgown and brush my teeth. Stay here until I come back out, okay?"

"Fine," he repeated, rolling over onto his side away from her.

She changed and brushed her teeth as quickly as he could, and was relieved when she reemerged from the bathroom and saw that he was still in the bed; though he was now on his stomach and on her side of it. She smiled and gently climbed in, pulling the sheets over the two of them. She was taken by surprise when he suddenly moved over on top of her and started to weakly kiss her neck.

"None of that tonight," she told him, gently pushing him away. The huff he let out from the rejection amused her, and she even allowed him to rest his head on her chest. She lightly stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head.

"Good night," she whispered.

He merely moaned in response, and they both drifted off to sleep.


	29. Chapter 28

_**Topaz16: Not strange at all! I thought it was cute too! Her kind of taking care of him in his woozy state. **_

_**Amirizar2003: Lol yeah! Even when incapacitated he's still horny XD**_

_**Aussieflower: Wow, that was a really lengthy comment, and I loved every word of it! Thank you so much! **_

_**Midnight Angel414: Ohhh definitely not. Though I don't think a physical cat fight or anything would ensue. :p**_

* * *

September 11, 2011

Sherlock was extremely groggy when he woke up, but he'd regained his focus and found himself lying up against Alexis. It took him a moment, but then he remembered how she'd undressed him and went to sleep with him the previous night. He watched her as she slept peacefully for a few minutes, but soon he wanted her awake and began pressing light kisses to the side of her face.

"Mmf, wha?" she groaned as she woke, trying to figure out what the feeling against her cheek was. As she slowly woke up and began to focus, she realized that it was Sherlock kissing her. She smiled and brought a hand up to stroke his hair.

"Morning," she greeted sleepily.

He pulled away and looked at her. "You stayed with me, last night."

"Yeah. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'm glad you are."

She stroked his face with the back of her hand, and gently pulled him in for a kiss. They made out for about a minute before she pulled away.

"I can't believe that bitch drugged you," she whispered, resting her forehead against his.

"She needed me incapacitated so she could take the camera phone from me. You see, those photographs were-"

"John told me everything. I know that she has the photographs on a camera phone and you almost had them once you took out those C.I.A. agents, but then she drugged you and got away."

He tightened his lips in disgust. "Not to worry. She won't be showing them to anyone anytime soon. She wants them for protection, not blackmail."

"Protection?"

"Well, whatever she has on that phone is clearly more than just the photographs. That's why those agents wanted the phone. There's something more."

"Yeah, but the question is: What?"

"Precisely."

She made a move to get out of the bed, but Sherlock climbed on top of her, looking intensely into her eyes.

"We never finished our business yesterday," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

A feeling of guilt suddenly overtook her. She wanted him badly, but the constant thought of that woman plagued her mind and left her feeling less than…well, sexy.

"Maybe later," she said, a fake smile on her face as she gently pushed him off her. "I'm kind of hungry, and you'll probably want a shower. I'll just go get dressed and you can get to it."

She quickly grabbed the first pieces of clothing she could find (a gray t-shirt and dark fuschia skinny jeans) and practically ran into the bathroom, leaving a perplexed Sherlock lying in bed.

* * *

Later on, Sherlock, John, and Alexis were out in the living room having their breakfast. Mrs. Hudson had come up to make sure Sherlock was alright, and decided to stay and tidy things up around the flat. It was around 9:00 when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Alexis told them. She hurried down the stairs and was somewhat less than thrilled to find Mycroft standing on the stoop when she answered the door.

"Morning, Mycroft," she greeted unenthusiastically, knowing he was here to scold his little brother.

"Alexis. I trust Sherlock has an explanation for the events that occurred yesterday."

"Yep, and he's more than eager to tell you about it. Come on up."

He followed her up the stairs into the living room, and everyone except Sherlock looked up when they entered.

"Mycroft," Sherlock greeted, reading the newspaper. Alexis took her seat next to Sherlock and dug into her cereal.

"I want an explanation, Sherlock. You obviously didn't retrieve the photographs as you said you would."

Alexis saw him wince as he continued to read. John noted this.

"Well, we ran into a bit of trouble during our visit, Mycroft," John told him.

"The photographs are perfectly safe," Sherlock told him.

"In the hands of a fugitive sex worker," Mycroft finished smugly.

He looked up from his paper, now becoming annoyed. "She's not interested in blackmail. She wants…protection, for some reason. I take it you've stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house?"

"How can we do anything while she has the photographs? Our hands are tied."

"She'd applaud your choice of words. Do you see how this works? That camera phone is a get-out-of-jail-free card. You have to leave her alone. Treat her like royalty, Mycroft." He said the last sentence in a mocking tone.

"Though, not the way _she _treats royalty," John commented, smirking.

Mycroft returned the smirk, only to have it fade from his face as soon as a strange noise filled the room. It was the sound of a woman moaning, specifically with a moan of pleasure; and it came from Sherlock's phone. Alexis held her mouth open and her spoon in midair when she heard this.

"What was that?" John asked.

"Text." Sherlock got up from the table and fetched his phone.

"But what was that noise?"

"Yeah, what _was _that?" Alexis asked, dropping the spoon in her bowl and pushing it away from her. She knew exactly what the sound had to be, but she desperately hoped she was wrong.

"Did you know there were other people after her too, Mycroft, before you sent John and I in there?" Sherlock asked his brother as he looked at the text and walked back to the table. "C.I.A. trained killers, I think excellent guess."

"Yeah, thanks for that, Mycroft," John said.

"It's a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that," Mrs. Hudson scolded as she walked over to the table. "Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes!"

"Oh, shut up, Mrs. Hudson."

"Mycroft!"

"Hey!"

The three of them immediately yelled at him for his comment, though John's yell came out more as a muffle. They all stared at him, a look that read "What did I do?" crossing over his face. He loosened up and smiled weakly and unconvincingly at Mrs. Hudson.

"Apologies," he said begrudgingly.

"Thank you," Mrs. Hudson said, walking back into the kitchen.

"Though do in fact shut up," Sherlock told her.

Alexis rolled her eyes, and then Sherlock received another text. He promptly picked up his phone and read it, then put it down again quickly.

"Oh, it's a bit rude, that noise, isn't it?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Very," Alexis answered, glaring at the phone.

Sherlock disregarded both comments and continued. "There's nothing you can do and nothing she _will _do, as far as far as I can see."

"I can put maximum surveillance on her," Mycroft suggested.

"Why bother? You can follow her on Twitter. I believe her username is 'TheWhipHand'."

"Yes, most amusing." Mycroft grinned sarcastically. His phone then rang and he walked out of the room, excusing himself as he did so.

John stared at the phone for a moment, chewing his last bit of food before looking up at Sherlock. "Why does your phone make that noise?"

"What noise?" Sherlock asked.

Alexis looked at him with disbelief, unsure if he was playing dumb or legitimately didn't notice the noise.

"_That _noise, the noise it just made."

"It's a text alert. It means I've got a text." He went back to reading the paper.

"Hmm. Your texts don't usually make that noise."

Alexis was struggling to keep her mouth shut, pleased that John was trying to give voice to what the noise really was but also growing angrier as he did so. She just knew that if she had to hear that sound one more time, she would snap.

"Well, somebody got a hold of the phone and, apparently as a joke, personalized their text alert noise."

"Hmm, so every time they text you…"

The alert went off again, and Alexis stood up from the table and stomped out of the room. She didn't care as they watched her walk off, and she slammed the door to the bedroom. She immediately grabbed her phone and texted Gwen.

**Let's go out today. I need to get out of this flat.**

** What's wrong?**

** I'll explain as much as I can later. Meet me at Harrods at 11.**

** All right. See you there.**

She put her phone down and was about to go for a shower when she suddenly heard "God Save the Queen" being played on the violin out in the living room. She figured Sherlock was probably doing it to mock his brother and continued with what she was doing. She stripped down to her bra and panties when she realized that she needed to get better looking clothes if she was going out with Gwen, and when she opened the door to go back into the bedroom she was met with Sherlock standing in the doorway. He cocked an eyebrow as he stared down at her body, a blush rising to her face.

"I'm assuming you have a problem with the text alert noise," he said.

"Can you blame me?"

"Perhaps not, but it's no reason to throw a tantrum and storm out of the room."

"I didn't throw a tantrum!"

"Didn't you?" He stepped closer, pressing his body lightly against hers. Her blush grew redder and he could tell he was getting to her.

"Okay, look, if you could just change the text alert, or put your phone on silent until she stops texting you, I would appreciate it. I'd just prefer not to hear the sound of a woman moaning on your phone…if it isn't me."

He smirked. "I'm not sure she'll stop texting me anytime soon. She's playing a game with me, trying to get my attention. I won't be responding, however."

"Good."

She softened her gaze and rested her hands against his chest. "It just freaked me out seeing you like that."

"And I'm sorry you had to."

He put a finger under her chin and kissed her softly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, nuzzling his face with her nose as she did so. His hands drifted around to her back and he reached for her bra clasp. She quickly pulled away and looked at his chest.

"Later. I have to go meet Gwen."

"Hmm, so you can tell her how much of an ass I am?"

She giggled. "No…more like how much of a bitch that Adler woman is."

"You don't like her very much, do you?"

"Would you?"

"Not particularly."

She smiled and kissed him once more. "I'll keep it vague. Official secrets, and all that."

"Good. Carry on, then."

He winked at her and shut the door, leaving her standing there smiling like an idiot.

* * *

Once more, Gwen and Alexis were sat in Café Florian in Harrods. Alexis kept it vague like she told Sherlock, leaving out exact identities and the fact that they were at Buckingham Palace.

"What a whore!" Gwen said, her mouth open in shock and disgust. "That's just disgusting!"

"Believe me, I know."

"First she flaps her boobs in Sherlock's face, then goes and fakes an orgasm and records it on his phone! I'm surprised you didn't kick her ass!"

"I would have if I were there, trust me."

Gwen took a sip of her tea. "Anyway, where is she now? I mean, do you think she's going to keep texting him like this?"

"We don't know where she is, and yes, unfortunately. Sherlock thinks that she's just playing a game with him. He's not going to respond to her, but it's still going to piss me off every time I hear that moan."

"Just tell him to put it on silent. Vibrate, even."

"That'll make it so much better."

She rolled her eyes before continuing. "Look, just try not to let her get to you. She's gone now, and maybe you won't ever hear from her again."

"With what she's got, Gwen, she won't be gone for good. This woman is dangerous, clever, sexy…" Her voice trailed off, and she took a bite of her pastry.

Gwen looked her up and down suspiciously. "Wait a second, Lex…you can't possibly be jealous of this woman."

She nearly choked on the pastry and swallowed it uneasily. "Jealous?! Why the hell would I be jealous, Gwen?"

"I'm not saying you are, but I _am _saying that you shouldn't be. Sherlock loves you. He wouldn't go for some cheap whore like that, not with you as a girlfriend. You're beautiful, smart, kind, compassionate. Need I go on?"

"No, but thank you. I'm more worried about her than him. This woman is trouble."

"It'll be fine."

"It better be. I'd like to be able to have sex with him without the image of her straddling his lap nude clouding my brain."

Gwen smiled sadly. "Take it from someone who's had many strange, sometimes horrifying sexual encounters; it will pass."

The two of them giggled and continued on with their tea.


	30. Chapter 29

_**MATURE content! Not much, though.**_

_**FantasyBard: : ) I should warn you that, regarding what you said about my note at the beginning of the chapter, you may be seeing something similar to that in the upcoming chapters. However, it's not an actual break-up! Please keep that in mind! Also, thank you thank you once again!**_

_**Fanfreak4ever: Your wish is my command! Alexis needs a friend like Gwen!**_

_**Midnight Angel414: Oh, I'd hate to imagine what Sherlock's revenge for that would be!**_

_**Amirizar2003: Quite so, and I think she knows it, too.**_

_**The-Princess-of-Daydreams: Well thank you, I intend to! And I hope you get around to reading the first ten chapters XD**_

_**Topaz16: Oh trust me, she's fuming on the inside. But you're right about the jealousy. **_

* * *

It turns out that Gwen had been right. In almost no time at all, Sherlock and Alexis were back to shagging like rabbits. Almost every day following the Irene Adler encounter turned out okay; that is, except when Alexis happened to hear that infamous text alert once in a blue moon. She didn't understand why Sherlock wouldn't just change it; it was a total embarrassment and not something he would ever find amusing. But, since she wasn't around to hear the majority of the texts, she would just let it go. She would also refuse to have sex with Sherlock on that particular day.

Time seemed to pass by rather quickly, and before everyone knew it, December had rolled around. Sherlock had had a few major cases within those few months, enough to keep him generally busy but there were still a few bouts of boredom he had to endure; or rather, that everyone at Baker Street had to endure.

* * *

December 17, 2011

A week before Christmas, John announced that he had a bit of last minute Christmas shopping he had to do and asked Sherlock and Alexis to accompany him. Alexis agreed straight away, having to do a little shopping herself, but Sherlock automatically refused. However, after ten minutes of convincing (and a lot of neck kissing) from Alexis, he buckled and went along with them.

Big mistake.

They decided to go to Harrods, and because it was a Saturday afternoon, it was naturally busy. This was the first reason Sherlock complained. Then, they reached the second floor Christmas shop. It was even more packed than the first floor, and to top it off, Santa Claus was there taking pictures with the children. Even John and Alexis had to admit that all of the children screaming and laughing was getting on their nerves, but it was no cause for what Sherlock was about to do.

"…and I could care less about the supposed 'Christmas cheer'! All I want is a nice, juicy murder to solve! That is my idea of the perfect Christmas!"

A large group of children and parents looked on in horror as Sherlock shouted this at Santa Claus. John and Alexis pretty much wished they were dead as they hung their heads and hid their faces. They knew Sherlock was in a foul mood, but this was just utterly humiliating.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to come with us."

The two of them looked up and saw that two security guards had approached Sherlock. Alexis shot Sherlock a warning glare when he appeared to try and protest, and so they all walked to the back entrance of the store where a police car was waiting for them. Alexis was sure to apologize and thank the security guards for not having Sherlock arrested before they were on their way back to the flat.

John sat in the front passenger seat while Sherlock and Alexis were in the back. Alexis stared forward at the back of John's seat with her arms crossed, making a point not to look at Sherlock. The tension was so thick that even the policeman was starting to feel awkward.

"I just want to know what possessed you to yell at Father Christmas about wanting a murder to solve. In front of children, no less," John told Sherlock, turning his head around to face him.

"He was asking for it, John. His overly-cheerful demeanor and incredibly fake 'Santa Claus' impression were utterly sickening."

"Sherlock…" Alexis said in a dangerously low tone, "he's Santa Claus. He's supposed to be cheerful. That's kind of how it works."

"Oh, is it? Because I find it quite ironic that the man beneath the suit is unemployed and frequents bars every other night. Not exactly your classic 'Yule-tide' hero, if you ask me."

She tightened her lips and kept her eyes firmly set on the seat. Ten minutes later, they were back at Baker Street, and John and Alexis thanked the policeman once more as Sherlock walked into the flat without a word. When the two of them entered the foyer, they found him standing at the bottom of the stairs, his hand holding his coat in mid-air.

"Sherlock, what is it?" John asked him.

"There's someone else in the flat. Can you smell that?"

"Smell what?" Alexis asked.

"Perfume. Cheap, definitely not high-end so it's either a young woman or a woman who's on a fixed income."

"Oh good, you're home," Mrs. Hudson greeted them as she walked out of her flat. "There's a young lady waiting upstairs in your flat, Sherlock. She arrived about five minutes ago. She told me that she has a problem that she needs your assistance with. A very sweet girl, she is."

Sherlock grinned. Finally, something to relieve his boredom. "Excellent."

They walked up to the flat and found a girl, probably in her late teens or early twenties, sitting on the couch in the flat. She had black hair with blue highlights and was wearing, well, a very interesting outfit. She stood up as the three of them walked into the room.

"Hi, are you Sherlock Holmes?" she asked a bit shakily.

"Of course, who else would I be?" Sherlock replied unenthusiastically.

"I'm Sally Barnicot," she told him, holding out her hand. "I need your help."

"Well for starters, I can tell you that your hair is a tremendous distraction. That, combined with your fishnet attire and heavy amounts of makeup is probably the reason why you don't have very many friends. Though you appear to not care the slightest of this fact, deep down, it really does bother you."

"What?" she asked, her eyes wide with sad disbelief.

Alexis let out a loud, uncomfortable laugh and walked over to her. "He's kidding, Sally! He's had a bit of a rough day, so he's in a bit of a joking mood." She said the last sentence through gritted teeth, briefly turning to glare at him before shaking her hand. "I'm Alexis Gilmore, and this is John Watson. We're associates of Sherlock."

"Hello," John greeted, shaking her hand. "Please, have a seat."

Sally and Alexis sat on the couch while Sherlock and John pulled up chairs from the table across from them.

"So, what can we do for you?" Alexis asked her.

Sally looked down at her folded hands in her lap and continued. "Well, I've come here because there's been a murder at my university. It happened two nights ago. The student's name was Pietro Venucci. He was my best friend." She closed her eyes and frowned.

"Oh, Sally, I'm sorry to hear that," John told her.

"Thank you. He was found stabbed in the pottery room. His boyfriend, Beppo Rovito, was found next to his body. He told the police that he'd just found him there like that, and the window in the room was smashed."

"But?" Sherlock asked.

"But?" Sally questioned.

"But you don't believe that it was as it seemed."

"No. No, I don't. I think Beppo had something to do with Pietro's death. The two of them had a very fiery relationship. They were always at each other's throats; I'm not sure why they were together at all."

"Why do you think he would go so far as to kill him, though?" John asked.

"I'm not sure. Well, I know that Beppo had always been quite jealous of Pietro's artistic talents. Beppo wasn't awful when it came to art, but he would never come close to Pietro."

"Another reason why you fancied Pietro," Sherlock pointed out.

"Sorry, what?" Sally asked, a confused expression on her face.

"Well clearly, you fancied Pietro, but any sort of romance between you two could never happen due to his sexual orientation. Perhaps your jealousy of Beppo is what's leading you to believe he murdered Pietro."

"No, it's not like that! I don't know how you came to believe that I had feelings for Pietro, but even if I did, I wouldn't go accusing Beppo just like that. Beppo also has a horrible temper; gets him into trouble a lot because he can't control it."

"Sally, I take it the police questioned Beppo, am I right?" John asked her gently. "And was there any sort of weapon found on him? Were his prints on anything in the room that could be used as a weapon?"

She looked down at her lap once more. "No. Not a thing. The police are questioning a lot of the students, but I'm sure that Beppo's done it. I believe he killed my best friend. Can you help, Mr. Holmes? Please?"

Sherlock had his hands in prayer style held up to his lips, showing that he was deep in thought. He stared at the wall behind the couch for a moment, then his eyes clicked to Sally's.

"I'll take the case."

She smiled. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"Of course. We'll be sure to contact you once we find anything."

"Thank you, Mr. Holmes!"

She got up from the couch and walked over to the doorway, looking back once more to thank John and Alexis before quickly descending down the stairs.

"So, what do you think?" John asked Sherlock. "Do you think this Beppo kid killed her friend?"

"Perhaps, but we still need more data."

He moved his chair over to the table and opened his laptop, immediately typing away on it. John and Alexis exchanged looks of "he knows what he's doing, so let's leave him to it", and as they both got up to go their separate ways, Sherlock gasped in approval.

"Excellent," he whispered.

"What's excellent?" John asked him.

"Come, have a look."

They walked over behind him and looked at an article from a news website about a series of burglaries connected to Sally's university.

"Okay, but what does this have to do with Pietro Venucci's murder?" Alexis asked him.

He turned around and looked at her with a smirk. "Everything. John, I need you to go to the university. Tell them that you're a curator from the Hickman gallery. Make up something convincing, but something having to do with the students' work."

"What? Why? What for?"

"Do you see what was stolen? Look here, each individual burgled had taken from them one item in common. A satiric sculpture of Margaret Thatcher with devil's horns molded into her skull."

Alexis glared at the screen. "What an asshole."

Sherlock and John both turned and looked at her, John with an amused smirk on his face.

"I'm sorry, but Margaret Thatcher is a great lady. Anyone who can't see that is a closed-minded, liberal moron."

"Hmm, well I can't argue with that," John commented.

Alexis smiled at him. "Anyway, should I go with him, Sherlock? Being an art museum educator, and all?"

"I don't believe it would be for the best. The university that Sally attends is the Courtauld Institute of Art."

"_My _school? Damn, I still keep in touch with a few people there."

"Precisely, and I'm confident that John can manage."

He smiled up at John expectantly. John sighed.

"Right, I'll just get to it then."

They watched him as he slowly descended the stairs. For a moment, they remained where they were until Sherlock looped his arm around Alexis's waist.

"We've got a while until he returned," he told her in a hushed tone. "That will leave us enough time to…get on with other things."

He turned around in his chair and went to put his other arm around her, but she walked away without a word and went over to sit in John's chair.

"What?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "Sherlock, if you seriously think that I'm going to go and have sex with you after the crap you pulled today, you're sadly mistaken."

"Please, I've done far worse."

"True, but either way, you're not getting any."

"Oh, am I not?"

He kept constant eye contact with her as he got up from his chair, strode over to her, and knelt down in front of her.

"No…you're not."

"Hmm," he mused, moving his hands down to her feet. He removed both of her shoes and took her right foot in his hands. He gently started to massage it, relaxing all the muscles. Alexis leaned her head back against the chair as he repeated the process with her other foot.

"Sherlock…this isn't going to get you-"

She yelped as he tickled the bottom of her other foot, trying to kick him but failing as he firmly gripped it. She huffed and he continued to massage her, then he rolled up her pant leg and began moving his fingers up her ankle and onto her calf. He stopped just below the knee and moved to her other leg, kissing it once he finished. By this point, Alexis's arousal was making itself known between her legs, and she glared at Sherlock.

"Damn you," she growled, wrapping her arms around his neck as she leaned in closer.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Alexis flipped over onto her back on the bed and started panting. The blanket came up just above her belly button, and Sherlock observed her with loving eyes as she came down from her high. He leaned over her and lowered his lips so they were mere inches above hers.

"Now…what was that you said about me not getting any?" he asked seductively.

She went to answer, but instead he lowered his lips and kissed her deeply. She was so worn out that she couldn't move her arms to hold him, and her fatigue was made known by her whimpering into the kiss. Sherlock smiled against her lips, then pulled away and started to kiss down her body. He soon reached her breasts and took a nipple into his mouth and began suckling.

"Oh god, Sherlock, I can't…" she breathed as he alternated breasts. Her breathing picked up once more, and she felt as though she was going to burst. "Please, please, please!"

Her pleading endeared him, and so he moved away from her chest and went back up to her face.

"You cannot deny me of what _you _most desire." His tone was deep and erotic. She thought she would come from the sound of that sentence alone.

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth. "But don't think that you can always take advantage of the fact that no one can deny you of anything, Sherlock Holmes. It _will_ come back to haunt you."

"Perhaps, but until then…"

His hand drifted down her stomach until it cupped her center gently. She gasped, and he laughed as she growled and flipped over onto him. Pretty soon, she got her revenge.

* * *

The two of them were back out in the living room when John arrived back at the flat.

"Okay, so," he began, plopping down into his chair, "I told the art lecturer, Horace Harker, that I was a curator from the Hickman, like you said to, and that I was interested in displaying some of the students' work at the gallery – specifically sculptures."

Sherlock and Alexis smirked slightly, and he continued.

"Well naturally, the murder came up, and so I asked Harker if there was anything of Pietro's that I could display as a sort of tribute to him. Of course, he told me about the Thatcher sculptures, and that four of them had been stolen from those who purchased one; including him."

"Good," Sherlock remarked, "and I was able to track down those who were burgled as well as the other two who purchased the remaining figures. We'll have to go and speak with the straight away."

He got up from the table and went to grab his coat on the back of the door. John and Alexis exchanged knowing looks and immediately followed him.

* * *

Four burglary victims later, Sherlock had confirmed the information he'd expected to hear. None of the people had anything else stolen from their homes except for the Thatcher statues. They then went to speak with the remaining two buyers and told them what was going on, and they were able to arrange for Sherlock and Alexis to watch one house that night and John the other.

It was nearing ten o'clock p.m., and Sherlock and Alexis were getting nowhere with their house.

"Maybe the burglar won't come tonight?" Alexis asked Sherlock quietly.

"No, he has to. Each statue was stolen from approximately nine o'clock to midnight last night. He'll be arriving soon enough."

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and it was John calling.

"John," he quietly greeted.

"He's broken into the house. He's taking the statue off the mantelpiece now. I'm going to follow him."

"Good. Excellent." He hung up the phone and grabbed Alexis's hand. "We've just had our fifth break-in."

The two of them quickly found John and proceeded to follow the burglar to Chiswick bridge. When they got a closer look at him, they realized something; it was Beppo Rovito.

They watched as he smashed the Thatcher sculpture and fished through the broken pieces, pulling out a small object. He stared at it for a moment, then raised his hand as if to throw it over the bridge. The three of them went in.

"Beppo, stop right there!" John shouted as they descended on him. He stopped mid-throw and looked at the three of them with wide eyes.

"Who are you?" he asked, fear lacing his words.

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Alexis Gilmore," Sherlock told him as they walked closer. "Sally Barnicot came to us to investigate the murder of her best friend – your boyfriend – Pietro Venucci. Can I just have a look at what you're holding in your hand?"

His eyes were still wide with fear as he handed Sherlock what he was holding. They all leaned in close and saw that it was a penknife, and that there were initials engraved in it.

"B.R.," Sherlock read. "Beppo Rovito, perhaps?"

"That doesn't prove anything!" Beppo retorted.

"Doesn't it?"

He struggled to find his words, and eventually he broke down and fell to his knees. "Okay! I did it! I killed Pietro! But it was an accident, I swear!"

"It was an accident that you stabbed your boyfriend to death?" Alexis asked in disbelief.

"I didn't mean to! It just happened! We were fighting, again, and he just made me so angry! I grabbed the knife off the table and…and I killed him."

"And then to get rid of the evidence, you pushed the penknife into the clay of one of the Thatcher sculptures and smashed a window to make it look like a break-in," Sherlock told him. "However, you lost track of which sculpture you put it in, and when they ended up being sold, you were forced to break into each buyer's house to find it and get rid of the evidence completely."

"I thought it would work. And I bet that bitch Sally told you that she thought it was me from the start, right?"

"Rightfully so," John commented.

Beppo did nothing to try and escape, as he knew that it was over, so they phoned Lestrade and had him arrested.

* * *

December 18, 2011

The next day, both John and Alexis were on the verge of snapping, as Sherlock would not stop going on about how the case had been, quote, "disappointingly simple." Luckily, he'd gotten so ingrained in one of his rants that they were able to put a frozen turkey on the table and sneak off to the nearby pub for a few drinks. He spoke to that turkey for two hours before he realized they were gone.


	31. Chapter 30

_**Minor MATURE content.**_

_**Also, just so you're aware, Molly is NOT going to be at Sherlock's flat for Christmas. I didn't think there needed to be anymore female issues for Sherlock and Alexis.**_

_**Another song for Alexis:**_

_**The Voice Within by Christina Aguilera (you'll see why)**_

_**Midnight Angel414: Yeah, I agree that they needed something to sort of ease the tension. And I didn't even make up the case myself. It's from John's blog.**_

_**Topaz16: Haha it is quite funny how oblivious he gets. And yes, that case was from John's blog and it wasn't featured at all in the series.**_

_**Aussieflower: : ) I did feel that a bit of a break was necessary. And if you think you're creepy for simply imagining it, I must be pretty messed up for thinking it up and writing it XD Thanks for the long review once again!**_

_**Amirizar2003: Lol everyone loves the turkey bit! You can thank the brilliant mind who came up with John's blog for that! And thank you!**_

_**FantasyBard: Oh, I think you're right about the Christmas party. And lol awww about Santa. I guess for a child a big dude like that would be scary.**_

_**Fanfreak4ever: Well he's done that a lot. Talking for countless hours on end, eventually John would get bored and leave an inanimate object in his place XD**_

* * *

December 24, 2011

It was Christmas Eve. Everyone in the flat (except for Sherlock, of course) was running around preparing for the next day. John contacted his sister and arranged for them to meet the day after Christmas, and Alexis phoned a few friends back in America to wish them a Merry Christmas. Mrs. Hudson had already begun cooking countless things for them, as well. The Christmas spirit at Baker Street would have been almost one hundred percent had it not been for Sherlock's Scroogey attitude.

That night, once everyone had gone to bed, Sherlock and Alexis remained in the living room. She was typing away an e-mail on her laptop while he merely sat in his chair and stared at her. She knew he'd been doing this for quite some time, but it only began to bother her when he leaned forward in his chair.

"Okay, what is it?" she asked, sending the e-mail and closing her laptop.

"I'm bored."

"And staring at me is going to relieve you of that boredom?"

"It's not as much the staring as the thoughts of what I'd like to be doing to you right now."

She cocked an eyebrow at him and put her laptop on the floor. "Oh yes? Well then…we can always turn those thoughts into actions."

The two of the smirked at each other, and Sherlock shot up from his chair and picked her up out of hers. She wrapped her legs around his waist as they made their way to the bedroom, kissing hungrily as they went. Sherlock shut the door with his foot when they entered the room and he practically threw Alexis on the bed. They wasted no time in removing each other's clothes, possibly ripping a few garments as they did so.

Once fully undressed, Sherlock climbed over her and started to hungrily kiss her neck. He pressed his full body weight onto her, gripping the back of her head and wrapping an arm around her waist. Alexis was turned on enough already, but his intense administrations were almost too much. He slowly started to work his way down her body, her pleasure increasing as he neared her breasts. She wanted him badly, so badly that she had to-

_"Ohhhh…"_

They both froze where they were, but soon he looked up at Alexis with questioning eyes. Her gaze was cold and firm.

"That wasn't me, Sherlock."

He sighed, rolling off of her and reaching down for his pants.

"Are you seriously going to read what it says?"

He had the phone in his hand, but paused before opening the message. He wasn't sure how to respond.

"Fine, just read it. I don't care."

He opened the message and read it, then put the phone onto the nightstand. He moved to climb back on top of her and continue what they were doing, but instead she rolled onto her side and away from him. She pulled the covers up over her neck.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She turned her head back around to face him. "Sherlock, do you seriously think I'm still turned on after hearing that noise?"

"It's only a noise."

"Yes, but we both know _what _that noise is and _who _made it. And why you still have that text alert on your phone is honestly beyond me."

She turned back onto her side without another word. The room was eerily silent after that. Sherlock looked at her for a moment, then sighed and rolled onto his back. He didn't fall asleep for a while, mostly because of the thought of the sick irony of Irene's text.

**I do hope I'm not interrupting anything.**

* * *

December 25, 2011

Christmas Day was a less than cheerful day for Sherlock and Alexis, and John and Mrs. Hudson could tell this immediately. They only kissed once, and it was only by the insistence of the two of them because they happened to be standing under some mistletoe that was hung in the doorway.

Alexis wasn't happy with the way things were going. She was hoping that her first Christmas with Sherlock would be happy and worth remembering. However, hearing that text alert for the first time in a month brought back bitter memories and thoughts and she couldn't help but be distant with him. And though Sherlock himself didn't care about Christmas cheer, he still wasn't happy with the tension.

That night, Lestrade and John's new girlfriend Jeanette joined them at the flat. The snow was falling in buckets as Sherlock started to play "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" on his violin. This both surprised and pleased Alexis, and everyone cheered for him when he finished and took a bow.

"Lovely, Sherlock! That was lovely," Mrs. Hudson told him as Lestrade whistled.

"Marvelous. That was very good," John commented.

Alexis walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. "That was great."

He smiled at her as he put down his violin.

"I wish you could have worn the antlers," Mrs. Hudson said, giggling almost hysterically. The eggnog she was drinking was clearly getting to her.

"Some things are best left to the imagination, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock replied.

Jeanette then walked up to him with a platter of cookies, offering him some without a word.

"Oh, no thank you, Sarah."

Alexis rolled her eyes, and a disappointed expression crossed Jeanette's face as she put the platter down. John walked over to her.

"Er, no, no, no, no, no, he's not good with names," he reassured her.

"No, no, no, I can get this. No, Sarah was the doctor and then there was the one with the spots and then the one with the nose and who was after the boring teacher?"

She folded her arms. "Nobody."

"Jeanette! Ah, process of elimination."

Alexis lowered her head in embarrassment as Jeanette went to sit back down. Sherlock sat at the table to check something on the laptop.

"John?"

"Hmm?" he asked, walking over behind him and finding his blog opened to the Thatcher case.

"The counter on your blog. It still says 1,895."

"Oh, no. Christmas is cancelled," he joked.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "You've got a photograph of e wearing _that _hat?!" He pointed to an image of him wearing the deerstalker.

"People like the hat," he told him, walking back over to sit with Jeanette.

"No, they don't. What people?"

Alexis smirked, then smiled at Lestrade as he handed her a drink.

"Thanks. Anyway, I wasn't expecting to see you, Lestrade. I thought you were going to be in Dorset for Christmas," she said, sipping her drink.

"That's first thing in the morning, me and the wife, we're back together now, it's all sorted."

She smiled. "Well, that's great."

"No, she's sleeping with a P.E. teacher," Sherlock chimed in.

They both glared at him.

"And, of course, John's going to his sister's," she continued.

"Yep. First time ever, she's cleaned up her act." He raised his glass. "She's off the booze."

"Nope," Sherlock said.

"Shut up, Sherlock!"

"Any plans for you two, then?" Lestrade asked Alexis, referring to her and Sherlock.

"No, no, not that we know of. I go back to work the twenty-seventh, and-"

"_Ohhhh…"_

Everyone in the room froze, and an expression of pure rage fell over Alexis's face.

"What was that?" Lestrade asked.

"It was me," Sherlock replied, earning a strange look from him and Jeanette. "My phone," he firmly corrected.

"Fifty…seven?" John asked.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock asked as he read the message.

"Fifty-seven of those texts, the ones I've heard."

"Thrilling that you've been counting."

He walked over to the mantelpiece and pulled a small box with red wrapping paper from it, staring at it for a moment. Neither John or Alexis had seen that box earlier that day, and they both became very suspicious.

"Excuse me."

Sherlock began to walk out of the room with the box.

"What's up? Sherlock?" John asked.

"I said excuse me."

"Do you ever reply?"

He said nothing as he shut his bedroom door. Everyone in the room became increasingly confused, and Alexis grew more angry and more worried.

"I'll go see what's wrong," she said, putting down her glass and walking away.

She slowly approached his bedroom door, and it sounded like he was speaking on the phone. What she heard sent bad chills down her spine.

"…_no, I mean you're going to find her dead."_

She immediately opened the door, and John had appeared behind her.

"Sherlock, what happened?" she asked him, though she already knew the answer.

"Yeah, are you okay?" John asked.

Sherlock quickly walked over to the door. "Yes."

He then shut the door on them. Alexis stared at the door, now starting to fight tears forming in her eyes.

"What do you thinks happened?" John asked her quietly.

She took a deep breath and exhaled through her nose. "Irene Adler is dead."

* * *

John went out and told Lestrade that something had come up, and he wished him a Merry Christmas as he left. Mrs. Hudson and Jeanette sat in the living room as Alexis stood in the doorway, wringing her fingers subconsciously as she stared at the wall with cold eyes.

Everyone was silent, and John had half a mind to go back and see what was wrong with Sherlock. However, the sound of a door opening made everyone perk up and they watched as Sherlock walked into the room and grab his coat and scarf.

"Where are you going?" Alexis asked him.

"St. Bart's," he replied, not looking up at her.

"Why are you going there?" John asked, though he quickly remembered the answer. "Do you want us to come with you?"

"No."

With that, he walked out of the room and down the stairs. John quickly walked over to the front windows and watched as he got into a cab and drove off.

"I'm assuming they have her body at Bart's," Alexis commented. "I guess he's going to identify it."

"Why would he need to do that?" John asked her.

"I don't know, but he also probably needs to begin the mourning process."

She turned around and walked back to the bedroom, ignoring John as he asked her what she meant. He sounded concerned, but she didn't care. She was just too angry.

* * *

Sherlock had just identified Irene Adler's body and was now staring out the window of the hospital. As he stared, he couldn't help but think about the day he'd first come across Miss Adler. A weird feeling suddenly overtook him, and it was as if he felt…sad. But why? He didn't care for this woman, so why did he feel like this?

The door to the morgue opened, and he rolled his eyes as Mycroft entered the hallway. He approached him slowly, and a cigarette suddenly appeared by his face.

"Just the one," Mycroft told him.

"Why?"

"Merry Christmas."

He took the cigarette from him and turned to face him. He placed it between his fingers and allowed his brother to light it for him.

"Smoking indoors, isn't there one of those…one of those law things?"

"We're in a morgue. There's only so much damage you can do."

He put the cigarette in his mouth and breathed in, then let out a long wave of smoke.

"How did you know she was dead?"

"She had an item in her possession, one she said her life depended on. She chose to give it up." He breathed in the cigarette once more.

"And where is this item now?" Mycroft asked.

He didn't reply and simply turned around. They could see into a room where a group of people were crying over a body on the slab.

"Look at them. They all care so much," Sherlock observed. "Do you ever wonder if there's something wrong with us?"

"All lives end, all hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock." He turned and looked at his brother thoughtfully. "But you do care. You care about Alexis. You are in love with her."

"Yes."

"And what of this woman?"

Sherlock didn't answer him, but exhaled uneasily as he looked down at the cigarette. "This is low tar."

"Well, you barely knew her."

"Huh."

Sherlock turned and slowly began to walk out of the morgue, tapping the ashes off the cigarette as he did so. "Merry Christmas, Mycroft."

"And a Happy New Year."

* * *

Her suitcase was packed, and she held the handle firmly in her hands as she stood in the middle of the bedroom. She'd manage to let a few tears fall from her eyes, but she couldn't change her mind. Sherlock was upset over Irene Adler's death, and this proved Alexis's suspicions.

He had feelings for her.

He had to. Why else would he be upset? The only times he ever got upset like this were because of Alexis. Because he was _in love _with her. She knew that he hadn't completely fallen for this woman, but there was obviously something there. Something that definitely did not belong.

She listened just inside the door as John and Jeanette were arguing over him not being able to go out with her that night. Mycroft called him and told him to search the flat for cigarettes (and whatever else) and then to stay with him the rest of the night. Because of this, she automatically accused John of basically being gay for Sherlock and then stormed out. It was a good thing, too, because that girl just wasn't right for him.

Alexis took a deep breath and walked out into the living room. John flashed her a weird look when he saw her approach with the case.

"Alexis, what are you doing?" he asked, walking closer to her.

"I'm leaving, John," she told him bitterly.

"Leaving? Alexis, what do you mean you're _leaving_?"

"I mean that…Sherlock needs some space right now. Irene Adler is dead, and he's obviously really upset about it. If I stay here, it's just going to break my heart and I'll only get in the way."

"Now, hold on. Just wait a second. If you think that Sherlock has any feelings for this woman at all, you're mistaken. Alexis, he loves _you. _You are his world. He'd never fall for anyone else, especially her."

"Then how do you explain his reaction, John? He's upset! If he didn't even have the slightest feelings for her, then he'd probably be more pleased than anything! Also, why is it, you think, that he never changed the text alert? It's been three months, and we are still hearing that god awful moaning! He obviously must want to know when it's her who's texting him!"

"Alexis, come on. Just put the suitcase down and relax. When Sherlock gets home, you two will figure this out."

"John, when he comes home, he's practically going to be catatonic!"

"Fine! So what? You're just going to break up with him? Just like that?"

"I'm not breaking up with him, John! I'm just…"

"Just what?"

She looked at him sadly. "I'm just giving him time to figure things out."

"Alexis, please don't…"

His voice trailed off as he stared off behind her. She furrowed her brow at him, but then turned around to find Sherlock standing in the doorway. His expression was unreadable, but the intensity of his gaze towards Alexis was enough to make her realize that he'd heard everything she just said to John; and that she definitely didn't have to repeat herself.

She tightened her lips and averted her gaze as she walked towards the door. Sherlock stepped to the side and allowed her to walk through without protest. She paused just in front of the stairs, wanting desperately to look back at him. However, the tears fighting to escape her eyes forced her to quickly descend the stairs, grab her coat in the foyer, and walk out into the night.

John didn't know what to say as he looked at his friend's seemingly placid expression.

"Sherlock, I…"

Sherlock merely did a quick scan of the room before walking back to his bedroom.

"I hope you didn't mess up my sock index this time," he called back, shutting the door.

John stood hopelessly in the middle of the room, hoping that, whatever was going on with Sherlock and Alexis, that they would figure it out soon. The two of them were nothing when they were apart.

* * *

_**Don't hate me!**_


	32. Chapter 31

_**Amirizar2003: Have no fear! Good things are yet to come!**_

_**Aussieflower: Don't worry, I know where you're coming from! Thank you! And if I may say so, the text alert thing wasn't as much a comic relief as it was an 'uh oh here we go again' thing; to get people back into the mood of Alexis being angry with Irene, you know?**_

_**Topaz16: Thank you! And don't worry, I won't stop giving you plenty of Gwen XD**_

_**Natsfanfiction: Wow your comment really scared me at first O.O But don't worry! It will be fixed! I promise!**_

_**AdaYuki: Trust me, you're not the only one who feels that way. But don't worry, it will be fixed soon!**_

* * *

December 30, 2011

The night Alexis left Baker Street, she immediately called Gwen. She'd been at a Christmas party, but left almost immediately and they met at her flat. Alexis basically cried for the rest of the night, wearing herself out enough to fall asleep on Gwen's couch; which Gwen didn't mind at all. The next day, she went back to her own flat. Since she'd hardly spent any time there in months, it felt different. It felt empty.

For the next six days, she was basically a machine. She got up, took a shower, ate breakfast, went to work, came home, had dinner, and went to sleep. Her routine never varied, and she never did anything to make her enjoy herself. She was miserable without Sherlock, but this was the way it had to be. For now, anyway.

When she got home from work that night, she expected to have a simple dinner and watch pointless T.V. shows until she went to sleep. However, her plans changed slightly when she received a phone call from John.

"Hi, John," she greeted, sitting on her couch and removing her heels.

_"Hey, Alexis. How are things?"_

It was all she could do not to scoff. "Dull. You?"

He sighed. _"Same here. Listen, I'm at the Royal Oak pub here in Westminster. Would you want to come 'round and have a drink?"_

She closed her eyes and exhaled. "Is he with you?"

"_Sherlock? A pub?"_

"You're right. Okay, I'll be there in twenty."

_"Grand. I'll see you then."_

"Bye."

She hung up the phone and covered her face with her hands. She knew very well that he wanted to talk about Sherlock, and she wasn't quite sure she was ready for that yet. However, she told him she would be there, so she changed into more casual clothes and got a cab to the pub.

When she arrived, she immediately saw John sat at a table near the bar and he waved her over when he spotted her.

"Hey," he said, pulling her chair out for her.

"Hi, thanks," she replied.

A waitress came over and she ordered a bottle of Guinness for herself. It was brought over right away, and for a few minutes the two of them sat there awkwardly as they sipped their drinks.

"Okay, so, why am I here, John?" she finally asked him.

"I assumed you knew."

"I do."

He sighed again, looking down at the table and back up at her. "Alexis, he's miserable. He barely eats, I haven't heard him mutter more than two words, and for the past two days he's been writing sad, depressing music. He's not himself."

"I'm not myself, either."

"Alexis, you have to talk to him. It's obvious that both of you miss each other."

"John, I know that you're trying to help, but it's just not that simple."

"How is it not that simple? It's obvious he wants you back there. Look at what he's been doing."

"I know, but has he been doing those things because of me…or her?"

"Alexis-"

"John, I know that you can't wrap your mind around the thought of him having had feelings for Irene Adler, but you really need to entertain the possibility."

"Alexis, I can't. He loves you. Only _you_."

"I know he loves me, and I love him. So much. But until he's figured out his issues with her, I can't be around. It'll be heartbreaking on a number of levels."

John didn't know what to say. Deep down, he knew Alexis was right. He just didn't want to accept it.

"I just can't stand seeing you two apart," he told her.

She smiled sadly at him. "Thanks. I hate it too."

Knowing there wasn't anything else to say, the two of them finished their drinks and got up from the table. Alexis kissed him quickly on the cheek before she left, glad that she had a good friend like him who really understood her; both her _and _Sherlock.

* * *

December 31, 2011

John walked into the living room and was immediately met with the sound of Sherlock's violin playing. He was stood at the window, never taking his eyes off of the street as he played yet another depressing tune. Mrs. Hudson walked silently into the room and shook her head as she took away a plate from the table; still full of food. He stopped his playing for a moment and wrote a few notes on the music sheet.

"Lovely tune, Sherlock. Haven't heard that one before," Mrs. Hudson commented as she walked into the kitchen.

"You composing?" John asked, shrugging into his coat.

"Helps me to think," Sherlock replied.

"What are you thinking about? Or, rather…who?"

He suddenly dropped his violin onto the chair and pointed to the laptop screen. "The counter on your blog is still stuck at 1,895."

"Yes. Faulty, can't seem to fix it."

Before John even realized it, he had Irene's phone in his hands and was typing the possible code. "Faulty, or you've been hacked and it's a message." He entered the numbers, and a look of sheer disappointment spread across his face when it rejected the code. He put the phone back down and picked up his violin once more. "Just faulty."

"Right. Well, I'm going out for a bit."

Sherlock began to play the sad tune again, and John walked into the kitchen and over to Mrs. Hudson.

"Listen, before Alexis came along, had he ever had any kind of girlfriend, boyfriend, a relationship, ever?"

"I don't know."

"How can we not know?"

"He's Sherlock. How will we ever know what goes on in that funny old head?"

He smiled sadly. "Well, whatever _is _going on in there, let's hope it takes him in a direction where he goes and talks to Alexis."

"I hope so, too. He's so sad without her."

"I know, and I also know that all of this-" He pointed to him playing the violin. "-can't be because of Irene Adler."

She nodded in agreement.

"Right. See you."

He left the flat and went to hail a cab on the street when he suddenly heard the sound of his name.

"John?"

He turned around to find a woman, who was quite attractive, standing in front of the stoop.

"Hello," he greeted.

She smiled seductively at him and walked closer to him.

"Hello," he repeated, slower this time.

"So, any plans for New Year tonight?"

He smiled nervously. "Um, uh, nothing fixed. Nothing I couldn't…heartlessly abandon, yeah." He zipped up his coat. "Any ideas?"

"One."

He nodded, waiting to hear her answer. However, his mood dropped when a black car approached the sidewalk.

"You know, Mycroft could just phone me, if he didn't have this bloody stupid power complex."

He and the woman got into the car. While he expected to be taken away to a discreet location and have a talk with Sherlock's older brother, he would soon find out that that wasn't quite the plan.

* * *

The Gallery closed early that day for New Year's, so Alexis was out of work at three and agreed to meet Gwen for tea at Harrods; this time at Ca'Puccino.

"So, John's really desperate to get the two of you back together, is he?" Gwen asked her as she took a bite of her biscuit.

Alexis shot her a look, but accompanied it with a smiled. "Yes, Gwen, and since he and I already had this conversation, I was kind of hoping that you and I could talk about something else. Anything else."

"Fair enough. So, any plans for tonight? Ringing in the New Year in any special way?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Watch live coverage of everyone gathered in the heart of London until the clock strikes twelve and it's 2012. Then, for added fun, I'll call my friends back in America and make fun of them for being stuck in the past. Literally."

"Oh, you wild child." Her voice was laced with pure sarcasm.

"Okay, fine. What about you?"

"Party, as usual."

"Right. My number is on speed dial 2 on your phone. I'll be on stand-by with a cab waiting."

"Funny. No, it's a much classier event this year. A new gentleman I'm seeing invited me."

Alexis nearly dropped her tea cup. "When did you start seeing someone?"

"About a week ago."

"And why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd really want to hear about it considering…" Her voice trailed off, and a look of guilt spread across her face.

"Gwen," she told her, her voice firm as she took her hand. "Don't worry about me. I still love Sherlock, and at some point, we're going to work this all out."

"I know, but when?"

She let go and leaned back in her chair. "I don't know."

"Exactly my point. Alexis, I saw what you looked like Christmas night. You were crying your heart out, and I hated seeing you like that. It was because you missed him and wanted to be with him."

"Gwen," she warned.

"No, Alexis. I'm your best friend, and it's my duty to be honest with you. So here it goes: I think you need to stop worrying about this other woman and go get back with Sherlock. You love him, and he loves you. You are miserable without him, and you two just need to be together."

"Damnit, Gwen! It is not that simple no matter what you, or John, or whoever else says! If it really were just as simple as 'we need to be together', don't you think I would be with him now? It's more complicated than that! He was legitimately upset when he heard about Adler's death! He was catatonic, and he hardly said a word to me or John! He just left without a word to go and see this woman's body, and it proved to me that he has feelings for her! Not necessarily that he loves her, but that there is something there and it is not good! And do you want to know something else? Something else that I haven't told anyone yet? Well, here you go: I am jealous of Irene Adler! That's right, jealous! She is sexy, clever, smart, was able to outwit Sherlock all those months ago! That has never happened with anyone else, so that proves that she is different. And because of all this crap that has happened with her, it proves to Sherlock that she is his equal, and I most certainly am not!"

Gwen was taken aback. She had no idea what to say to her. Only when Alexis got up from the table and ran away in tears did she call her name, but it was too late. She was gone again.

* * *

Alexis cried almost as much as she did the night she first lost Sherlock. The night that she confessed her love to him, and he initially rejected her. The pain that she felt was almost unbearable; it was like a sudden realization of something so heartbreaking that she just couldn't bear it. This crying wasn't very different from that; for she had another realization that hadn't actually come to her until she told Gwen.

She was _jealous _of Irene Adler.

But why? Why this woman? She could get passed the fact that she was sexy and confident, as Sherlock saw _her _that way. But then she remembered one of the final things she said before she left the café. The thing she told her about Irene being Sherlock's equal. Something that Alexis herself could never be.

She wanted to cry again, but the sound of her phone ringing made her straighten up and fight back the tears. She looked at her phone and saw that it was John again.

"Hey, John, what's up?"

_"Alexis, you should come to Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson's been attacked."_

"What?! Why? How? Is she alright?!"

_"She's going to be fine. She's just in a bit of shock right now. Those agents, the ones from back when we first met Irene Adler, they broke into the flat looking for the phone. Sherlock took down the leader. Bloodied him up something good."_

"And is he okay? Are you okay?"

_"Yeah, yeah, I wasn't there. I was…out."_

"I'll be over as soon as I can."

She threw her phone into her purse and ran to her bathroom, turning on the cold water and splashing her face over and over again to take away as much of the redness and puffiness as she could. This was not the time for crying. She had to be brave for Mrs. Hudson, to make sure she was alright.

The cab ride over was relatively quick, and Alexis threw her money at the cabbie before running down the sidewalk and down to the flat. She was stopped for a moment by one of the officers, but she told them that she lived there and they let her through straight away. When she crossed the police tape, she saw that Sherlock and Lestrade were stood just outside the door. She took a deep breath and ran over to them.

Sherlock's eyes widened as he saw Alexis approach them. "Alexis?"

She ran right up to him. "Sherlock, I heard what happened. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Mrs. Hudson is down in her flat with John."

"Okay."

She ran into 221A and found John and Mrs. Hudson sat at the kitchen table. Mrs. Hudson had her head leaning on her elbow.

"Mrs. Hudson, are you alright?" she asked her gently, moving the chair so she could kneel in front of her.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied weakly, her voice weepy from crying.

She leaned up and hugged her carefully, not wanting to upset her in her fragile state.

"I'm glad you came, Alexis," John told her.

She looked up at him and smiled, knowing that his words had two meanings.

A moment later, Sherlock walked into the flat and shut the door.

"She'll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight, we need to look after her," John told him.

"No," Mrs. Hudson weakly protested.

Sherlock opened her refrigerator and pulled out a pastry. "She's fine."

"No, she's not, look at her. She's got to take some time away from Baker Street. She can go and stay with her sister. Doctor's orders."

"Don't be absurd," he said as he took a bite.

"She's in shock, for God's sake, and all over some bloody stupid camera phone. Where is it, anyway?"

He wiped his mouth. "Safest place I know."

John and Alexis looked at Mrs. Hudson as she reached into her shirt and pulled out the camera phone. They were amazed.

"You left it in the pocket of your second best dressing gown, you clot," Mrs. Hudson told him, handing him the phone. "I managed to sneak it out when they thought I was having a cry."

Alexis got up and walked over to John's side of the table, a grin ever present on her face. Mrs. Hudson was freaking awesome.

"Thank you," Sherlock said as he walked over to her. "Shame on you, John Watson."

"Shame on me?" John asked in disbelief.

"Mrs. Hudson, leave Baker Street? England would fall."

He put an arm around her shoulders and brought her close to him. She gasped in delight and put her hand over his. John and Alexis smiled at the compassion.

Sherlock gently backed away, and all at once, everyone realized that he and Alexis were standing in the same room for the first time in a week. The tension immediately filled the room, and Alexis figured that the only way to relieve everyone of it was for her to leave.

"Mrs. Hudson, you're sure you're going to be alright?" she asked her, walking back over beside her.

"Oh, yes, dear, I'll be alright. I'm so glad you came. I really do appreciate it."

She leaned down and hugged her, kissing the top of her head as she did so. "Good. Well, I'm just going to head home now."

"Take care, Alexis," John told her, disappointment evident in his voice.

"I'll walk you out," Sherlock suddenly told her.

Everyone in the room froze, and she stood with her hand on the doorknob for a moment so she could process what he said. "A-alright," she told him, opening the door and ascending the stairs.

The two of them walked slowly down the hall, not looking at each other. He walked ahead and held both doors open for her, and she thanked him quietly as they walked out onto the street. They moved past all the police commotion and Sherlock hailed a cab for her right away.

"Thanks," she said for the third time that night.

He smiled slightly as the cab approached. "So, er, any plans this evening?" he asked her uneasily. "New Year, and all that?"

She shook her head. "No. You?"

"No."

He opened the cab door for her, but before she got in, she reached up and pressed a light kiss against his cheek. "I'm glad you're okay," she whispered.

Before he could answer, she'd gotten into the cab. He shut the door and watched as she pulled away, an action he'd grown tired of watching her do.

He walked into the flat and put his coat on the banister, then ascended the stairs up to the living room and grabbed his violin. He walked over to the window and began to tune it as John approached him from behind.

"Where is it now?" John asked, referring to the phone.

"Where no one will look."

"Whatever's on that phone is more than just pictures."

"Yes it is."

John looked down at his drink. "So, she's alive then? How are we feeling about that?"

Sherlock merely stared out the window, not answering.

"And Alexis came back tonight. How about that?"

The sound of Big Ben going off filled the entire city. "Happy New Year, John," he simply said.

"Are you going to see her again soon?" He was still speaking of Alexis.

Sherlock turned around, flipping the bow in his hand once and he began to play "Auld Lang Syne". John sighed and sat down in his chair, knowing he was never going to get a straight answer from him. However, the fact that Alexis came back for Mrs. Hudson, and that Sherlock went out of his way to walk her out, meant that there was still something there and that a glimmer of hope remained for the two of them. He just hoped they would work things out soon.

As Big Ben struck midnight and everyone cheered on the T.V. for the New Year, Alexis received a new text message. She looked down at her phone, opened the message, and her heart fluttered.

**Happy New Year. – S**

She couldn't help but smile, and so she replied.

**You too. **


	33. Chapter 32

_**MATURE content!**_

_**Hopefully this chapter will earn me back some love from my loyal readers! Hope you enjoy!**_

_**Another two songs for Sherlock and Alexis:**_

_**Gravity by Sara Bareilles**_

_**She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5**_

_**Amirizar2003: Don't worry, I think the label at the top of this note will tell you that this is coming very soon ;)**_

_**Topaz16: Thanks, I really wanted John and Alexis to be close. I feel it's an important factor with Sherlock's friendship with him and his relationship with Alexis. Also, I've yet to even have her meet Sherlock, so we'll see in time!**_

_**Milify-star: Thank you! Glad you like it! I update as often as I can!**_

* * *

January 1, 2012

That night, Alexis dreamed about Sherlock. You could say, though, that it wasn't as much of a dream as it was random clips of the two of them together. One minute, they were sitting at the table eating breakfast. The next, they were walking through various parts of London. And finally, which happened to be what most of what she saw was, they would be in Sherlock's bed making love.

Seeing Sherlock the night before had really gotten to her. She hadn't exactly cried, just let a few tears stray, but it definitely weakened her defenses. All she knew was that she wanted to see him. She _needed _to see him.

Unfortunately, though, it wasn't that simple. There was so much to consider, so much she hadn't realized until that morning. For one, Sherlock wouldn't just welcome her back with open arms. She legitimately hurt him by walking out like she did, and when he was hurt, he shut down. Closed himself off from the world. Even if he was deeply in love with Alexis, it still wouldn't be easy.

Also, despite this having to do mostly with her pride, she didn't want to just admit she was wrong and go crawling back to him. She wanted to make sure that he knew he hurt her, and that she wanted answers as to why he acted the way he did about Irene Adler. However, she didn't exactly want to be completely cross about it. Despite the pure anger she felt towards that woman, and how she wanted to smack Sherlock back into his senses…she just wanted that anger to go away.

She would go and see him that night.

* * *

8:00 p.m.

Alexis didn't expect to be as nervous as she was when she approached the door at 221B Baker Street. She had half a mind to use the key Sherlock gave her, but, given the circumstances, felt it would be better just to knock. However, no matter how many times she made the move to press her knuckles to the door, her arm stopped mid-stride.

"Alexis?"

The sound of John's voice nearly made her fall backwards off the stoop, but she steadied herself in time. She smiled slightly at him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I came to see him. Is he in?"

He smiled. "Yeah, he should be, although when I left him last, he was sitting at the fireplace deep in thought. He may be a bit hard to get to at first."

She smiled at the thought. "That's okay, I'll try really hard. Er, were you coming in?"

"Uh, no. No, I was…on my way out, actually. I'm meeting a mate at the pub, should be out for a while. Hours, probably."

"Okay."

She went to attempt to knock once more as John walked away, but he turned around halfway down the sidewalk.

"Alexis?"

She spun around to face him.

"There's one more thing you should know."

"What is it?"

He cleared his throat. "Irene Adler is alive."

Her eyes widened in confusion. "What? But she was dead on a slab. How…?"

"She has her ways, apparently. Sherlock was completely in shock about it, and he didn't seem particularly happy."

"He didn't?"

"No."

She tightened her lips. This definitely complicated things.

"I wouldn't worry, though," he told her. "I know that all he's focused on is you."

"How do you know that?"

He looked down at the ground, then back up at her. "Because I know he sent you that text last night."

She couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, and you can go ahead and use your key."

She nodded and dug the key out of her purse. When she looked up after she'd fished it out, John was gone. She took a deep breath, stuck the key into the hole, and unlocked the door.

The ascent to the living room seemed endless. She took one slow step at a time, her eyes racing around her, observing every inch of the stairwell. Her nerves had her so on edge that she nearly stumbled over a few steps, and she feared that her knees would soon buckle under her completely. It was both frightening and relieving when she reached the top of the stairs.

Carefully, she peered around the doorframe and found Sherlock exactly where John said he would be. He was sat in his chair, staring at the lit fireplace as he plucked the strings of his violin. The glow of the fire against his face made him look absolutely beautiful, and it was all Alexis had not to run over and kiss him.

He didn't look away from the fireplace, so he clearly didn't know she was there. Deep in thought, just as John said; but what about?

She slowly approached him, stopping in the middle of the room when she thought she saw him flinch. He hadn't, though; it was just an involuntary twitch of the eye. She continued her stride until she was a few feet away from him. Any closer, and it would be more awkward than it needed to be.

She took a deep breath and quietly said his name. "Sherlock?"

He didn't answer, nor did he even move.

"Sherlock?" she asked again, this time a bit louder.

He suddenly whipped his head around to face her. His eyes looked her up and down, his face placid as ever.

"Alexis."

His gaze was intense, and it left her tongue-tied.

"Is there something you needed, or are you going to just stand there and stare at me?" he asked.

"Um, no," she quickly replied. "Can we talk?"

He put down his violin and gestured to John's chair across from him. She put her purse down beside it and sat down.

They were both silent for a moment, and Sherlock was becoming impatient.

"Well," he began, folding his hands in his lap, "what was it you wanted to talk about? You came back here after eight days of silence, so I'm assuming it's something important."

Ouch.

"I wanted to talk about us," she replied calmly.

"Well, go on."

He wasn't going to make this easy for her.

"I…I've missed you, Sherlock, so much. I've been doing some thinking, and I'm pretty sure I made a mistake by leaving."

"Oh yes?"

"Yes."

He leaned forward slightly. "Alexis, let's get past the nonsense and get down to what you're really trying to say to me, shall we? This is about Irene Adler and your ridiculous jealousy of her."

Bingo.

"Yes, yes it is. I _am _jealous of her, Sherlock, and do you want to know why?"

"Whatever the reason, it's going to be absurd."

"Not necessarily."

"Isn't it?" He stood up from his chair and walked to the center of the room. "The way I see it, there are three possibilities. One, because this woman took her clothes off and stood just inches away from me, you believe it's left an impression and that I often picture it. Absurd! Two, because she has insisted on texting me as much as she has, adding the fact that I have not altered her personal text alert noise, you believe that I both wish to know when she's texting so I can immediately see what she has to say and that, though this is absurd even for you, I take some sort of pleasure from hearing the sound of her moaning through the text alert. Absurd! And three, which is the one that angers me the most, is that you still struggle with being so insecure that any woman, especially a dominatrix, who shows the slightest bit of interest in me is seen as a threat by you. You fear that I would leave you for just any other woman because you feel you aren't good enough, and that is just stupid!"

She locked her gaze with his and stood up. She walked over until she was two feet away from him. "Wrong on all accounts."

"Then prove it."

"I know you love me, Sherlock. I love you, as well. You are the best and most extraordinary thing that has ever happened to me, and being apart from you has been sickening and miserable. I will admit that, at first, I thought you may have some sort of feelings for her, but that thought has since changed. It took me a while to realize it, but now I know what my real problem is. This woman is clever, smart, and she has at her disposal a lot of important information. She was able to outwit you and take back that information all those months ago, and that is something that no one has ever been able to do. Granted, you are still more clever than she is, but she comes damn close. Closer than I will ever be."

Confusion spread across his face.

"Sherlock, you don't have any sort of love or even the slightest crush on Irene Adler, but you do see how clever and intellectual she is. Knowing this, you have been able to recognize her as an equal to you, and that is something I will never be."

"Alexis-"

"I know it sounds like I'm belittling myself, but that's not the aim here. I'm just telling you what is. Irene Adler is your equal, and you admire that in her. There's not many other people out there like her."

"Stop it, just stop this," he demanded, his voice rising. "You think you've figured this all out, but you're wrong. You are completely wrong! I do not see this woman as an equal. I see her as nothing because I feel nothing for her!"

"Do you?"

He let out a noise of frustration, turning his back to her and pacing around the room.

"Look, I know it's hard to accept, but that's just how it is."

"No, no, it's not! It…it's not." He was clearly fighting with himself at this point. Deep down, he knew that she was right about Adler, but he couldn't stand the thought.

"I just wish she never happened," Alexis told him sadly. "I can't blame my leaving on her, but I can admit things would be a lot easier if she weren't around. If she just didn't exist."

He turned back around slowly to face her. The look on her face broke his heart, and he walked over until he was right in front of her.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock," she told him, tears streaming down her face now. "I'm sorry I left you like that. It was selfish and stupid, but I-I didn't know what else to do."

"I should have loved you better. If I wasn't so…distracted, we wouldn't be in this situation."

His words made her choke on a sob. "No, please don't say that! I know you love me, and I just- I just want to forget about all this. I love you so much, but I can't ask you to forgive me just like that."

He gently placed a finger under her chin and brought her face up to his. "There is nothing to forgive. I love you."

She sobbed once more, and he pulled her in for a kiss. They wrapped their arms around each other as they savored the connection they hadn't experienced in so long. Sherlock moved his hands to her face and stroked away the tears, his kisses softer now. He pulled her up so he could hug her, wrapping his arms back around her torso as she wrapped hers around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

"Can we just forget, please?" she asked almost inaudibly. She pulled away and looked sadly into his eyes, desperate for a good answer.

"I think that, instead of forgetting…we just remember what we mean to each other."

She smiled and kissed him once more. He carefully moved his arms so that he picked her up bridal style, not breaking the kiss once. Alexis expected a long trek down to his bedroom, but instead felt him walk a few feet and place her on the floor. She opened her eyes and saw that they were right in front of the fireplace, and he was kneeling above her. He smiled down at her, looking at the same glow she saw on him earlier.

"You're beautiful," he said, leaning down and kissing her softly.

She sat up and started to unbutton his shirt, kissing his neck gently as she did so. He pushed her coat and jacket from her shoulders and pushed them off to the side. She removed his jacket and shirt slowly, taking her time to feel each muscle in his strong arms. He got on his knees and allowed her to work on his belt as he undid the button and zipper of her jeans. He stood up briefly to remove his trousers before kneeling back down and lifting Alexis's shirt over her head. They smiled at each other and kissed again.

Sherlock moved them so they were both lying on the floor, putting his weight on top of hers. His hands moved down to her jeans and he pushed them down her hips, Alexis having to carefully kick them the rest of the way off. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies as they kissed fervently. However, Alexis pulled away when she realized something, but struggled to find the words as Sherlock moved to kiss her neck.

"Sherlock…w-wait, I don't think…John could come back any minute."

He brushed his nose against hers, grinning. "He won't be home for hours."

"But are you-"

"I'm sure."

As he said this, he reached around and unclasped her bra. She laid her head back down and allowed him to slowly slide the garment down her arms. His breath hitched a moment, and she smiled up at him gratefully. He leaned back down to kiss her, cupping her left breast gently as he did so. She moaned into the kiss and slid her hands down his back. She snuck a few fingers under the waistband of his boxers and moved them down his legs. Once more, he pulled away and stood up to remove them, this time grabbing a blanket from the back of John's chair before going back down to her. He quickly removed her panties before lying back on top of her, covering them both with the blanket as he did so.

He moved from her lips and continued down her body, spending extra time at each of her sensitive spots. He knew he had to take his time this time; to show her how much he truly loved her. His hands gently gripped her back directly behind her breasts and he lowered his mouth to them. She moaned as he suckled at her nipples, massaging them to an unbearable hardness. His administrations were careful and deliberate, causing her to almost come at one point. She wrapped her arms around his head and shoulders as he pleasured her, keeping him as close as possible. When he finished, he took hold of both of her wrists and kissed her palms, placing them gently on her stomach.

He nuzzled her skin with his nose as he continued down her body, Alexis giggling quietly at the sensation. She bit her lip as he took hold of her hips, kissing each bone before working his way to her center. He moved his hands under her thighs, pushing them until her knees were bent and her feet were flat on the floor. He moved his hands to grip them and lowered his head to her folds.

"Oh, Sherlock," she breathed. He licked a wide stripe up her slit, sending chills down her spine. She moaned constantly as his tongue moved throughout her folds, lapping at her with a purpose. She grew wet rather quickly, and Sherlock forced himself to slow down to prolong the feeling for her. He pressed a few open-mouthed kisses to the insides of her thighs and her outermost folds before continuing. The pleasure was so great that Alexis thought she might cry if she didn't come soon. Realizing this, as he could feel her tensing up, he picked his speed back up and pressed his mouth closer against her. With one final circular lap, she came screaming. He didn't bother to lick her through her aftershocks and instead spread her legs so he could climb up between them, kissing up her body as he did so.

He cupped her face in his hands and positioned himself in between her legs, ready to enter her at any moment. She looked up at him with so much love, a single tear escaping her eye as she gently stroked his face with her hand. He smiled and pressed his lips to hers, entering her slowly and completely as he did so. She arched her back at the overwhelming feeling of his entry, moaning into the kiss. They wrapped their arms tightly around each other and began to move their hips, meeting one another's thrusts in perfect unison. Alexis whimpered against his lips, having been so desperate for the feeling of him inside her that she found herself wanting more. Making love to Sherlock was always beautiful and perfect, but she wanted it to be more than that. She wanted to be completely surrounded by Sherlock Holmes.

She threaded a hand into his hair as they continued to move together. He kissed her lips, her forehead, her eyelids, and her cheeks in swift motions, Alexis gasping at his sweet touches. As much as he wanted to take his time with her, Sherlock's need was growing more and more with each thrust. They both soon picked up their speed and were becoming desperate to reach their climaxes. Alexis wrapped her legs around Sherlock's waist and gripped him tightly to him, moving her hands to caress his chest. She grazed her fingertips across his nipples, making him moan against her lips and pick up his speed even more. They were nearly breathless at this point, and with a few final thrusts, they were both up and over into their climax.

Sherlock fell just to the side of her and rolled onto his back, breathing heavily along with Alexis. After she came down from her high, she rolled into his side and rested her head on his chest. He looked down at her and smiled as he pulled the blanket back over them. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and held her close, making sure never to let her go again.

* * *

John walked back into the flat about three hours later and was stilled by what he saw in the living room. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he saw Sherlock and Alexis asleep in front of the fireplace, a blanket laid over top of them. Their clothes were off to the side of both of them, and John couldn't possibly get any redder from his embarrassment. Despite this, though, he couldn't help but smile, because this meant that the two of them had worked things out and were now back together. However, when Alexis shifted and he accidentally saw more than he should have seen, he knew it was time to turn on his heel and head up to his room for the night.


	34. Chapter 33

_**Sorry for the delay! I've had a lot of work lately, and I just got a new computer today so I've been playing with it all day. But here's the newest chapter! It's kind of short but I hope you like it anyway!**_

_**Aussieflower: I would never let that happen, especially during a sweet reunion such as this. : ) I'm really glad you liked it, and I should think no one would hate you for that! Everyone has their own interests and I'm glad you're so open minded that you've branched out into reading a Sherlock/OC story!**_

* * *

January 2, 2012

Alexis stirred early the next morning. When she first opened her eyes, she wasn't quite sure where she was. However, when she looked up and saw that she was lying naked with Sherlock and she was curled up beside him, she smiled and pressed a kiss to his chest. Things were as they should be.

As she snuggled back against him, she started to notice something different about her surroundings. She was lying on something hard, and she felt that they were low to the ground. She raised her head and adjusted her eyes to see where she was, and her eyes went wide.

"Sherlock," she whispered, rubbing his chest gently to wake him. "Sherlock, wake up."

He slowly woke with a groan and looked at her with sleepy confusion. "What is it?"

She leaned her face in close to his. "We never made it to the bedroom last night."

He leaned up on his elbows and looked around the room, unsure of how he felt about it. Alexis bit her bottom lip, hoping that what she feared happened didn't actually happen.

"Are you two still in the living room then?"

They heard John's voice coming from the staircase that led up to his room, and Alexis covered her mouth and buried her face in Sherlock's chest, giggling uncontrollably.

"Yes, John," Sherlock answered calmly.

"Right. Well, I'll give you a few minutes, shall I?"

"Thank you, John," Alexis replied amidst her giggles. They heard John walk back up to his room, and Sherlock immediately began gathering the clothes in his hands.

"Oh, god, that's so embarrassing," Alexis whispered.

"Relax, it's John. If anything, he's happy that he saw us here. It proves we're back together."

She smiled and kissed him softly. They gathered the clothes and Alexis did her best to wrap the sheet around both of them. Once they were in Sherlock's room, they dropped the clothes on the floor and hugged, laughing as Sherlock backed them up and laid them both on the bed. He gently kissed her neck as she wrapped her arms around him, stroking her fingers through his hair. Her smile slowly faded from her face, and Sherlock looked up at her and frowned at this.

"What's wrong?" he asked, leaning up on an elbow and draping an arm over her stomach.

"Nothing," she told him, running a finger along his arm. "I just hate that I left you like that. I really missed you. I'm not going to leave you again."

He leaned in and gently kissed her. "It was an unfortunate choice, but you felt it was necessary and I trust your judgment. But," He sat up and brought her with him. "I want you to know that you are brilliant. You are very smart, and you are indeed clever despite what you think. I've never thought you to be unintelligent in anyway, and if I ever made you feel that you were, I am sorry."

She stroked the side of his face. "You never did."

"Good."

"And like I said, I just want to forget about this. I know that Irene has turned up alive, but we're not going to let her drive a wedge between us again. We'll deal with her together, okay?"

"I don't want you directly involved. The information she has makes her extremely dangerous, Alexis."

"I know…but you have her phone."

"I do, but I still don't know the pass code. I'm taking the phone to Bart's today to analyze it. See if there's another way into it."

"I'll go with you."

"Alright."

She smiled, leaning in to kiss him once more. The kiss soon deepened, and they both chuckled against each other's lips as Alexis pushed them back on the bed, climbing over Sherlock and moving her tongue into his mouth. They remained like this for a moment before Sherlock pulled away and looked up at her.

"Everything okay?" she asked him.

He looked at her pensively. "I think you should move into the flat. Permanently."

Her eyes widened. "Sherlock, I…that's a lot to throw at someone all of a sudden like that."

"How so? You've already been spending the majority of your time here. This past week was the longest period of time you've spent at your flat in nine months. Financially it would make more sense for you. For all of us."

"That's another thing, Sherlock." She climbed off of him and sat against the pillows. "We have John to consider. It's one thing to just spend a lot of time here with him living here as well, but to move in and have to bring in all of _my _things into the flat? None of us would have room! Plus, I don't know that John wants to be living with you and your girlfriend together."

"John has no problem with you staying here now. In fact, he prefers it. 'A breath of fresh air' he calls you."

She smiled. "Sherlock, I would love to move in here, but we have to talk it over with John."

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to shower."

He made a move to get off the bed, but she quickly pinned him down by the wrists.

"Alexis, I'm not leaving the flat until I've properly washed myself, now if you'll excuse me," he said firmly but playfully.

She grinned impishly at him. "Not by yourself, you're not."

He grinned back at her, picking her up in one swift motion and carrying her into the bathroom.

* * *

An hour later, they emerged from the flat and walked onto the sidewalk to hail a cab to Bart's. Sherlock had his arm raised to grab a cab's attention when Alexis suddenly forced it back down to his side. She was looking through the window of Speedy's, and he cocked an eyebrow at her.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Do you see that woman sitting all the way over on the right side of the café?" she asked him, her eyes fixed on a woman with brown hair.

Sherlock spotted her and immediately knew who she was. "It's your friend, Gwen."

"Yeah, it is! I'll be right back, okay?"

"Fine, but be quick."

She kissed him on the cheek and walked into the café. The ringing of the bell on the door immediately caught Gwen's attention and she jumped out of her chair.

"Gwen, what are you doing here?" Alexis asked as she hugged her.  
"Well, it's a café isn't it? And it serves breakfast, so I'm merely here having breakfast!" Gwen answered quickly.

"Ah, so you just _happened_ to choose a café that serves breakfast on Baker Street that just _happens _to be right underneath my boyfriend's flat?"

She bit her lip. "Coincidence?"

Alexis grinned at her knowingly. "I think not."

Gwen sighed. "Look, I don't even know what my plan was. I knew very well you most likely wouldn't want to come here, but…"

"But you were just trying to be my best friend and do your best to make me happy."

They smiled at each other and hugged once more.

"Despite what you may think, I'm not that clever with things like this," Gwen told her.

"Despite what _you _think, I already knew that." She winked at her.

"Well, not that I even have to ask, but I'm assuming you got back together with Sherlock?"

She smiled. "Yes, I did."

"I'm so happy for you. I knew you needed him and that you'd work it out."

"So did I."

She looked down at the ground, then back up at her. "Listen, Alexis, about what you told me the other day…"

"I know, and I've worked it all out. It's okay."

"Alright, but I still want you to know that you are amazing, beautiful, and smart, and that Sherlock is a very lucky man."

"Thank you, Gwen."

Gwen peaked around her shoulder and her eyes widened when she spotted Sherlock standing on the sidewalk. "Oh my god, that's him."

"Yes, yes it is. That's Sherlock Holmes." Gwen continued to stare at him in awe, and Alexis grinned. "Do you want to meet him?"

Her eyes met hers in an instant. "Really?"

"Of course! It's been almost a year since we started dating and you haven't met him! I really want you to."

"Wow…well, alright then!"

"Great! Oh, but I have to warn you, he may not be very polite considering we have to be somewhere. Just keep that in mind and know that it's not personal."

"Love, I'm sure I've shagged men with less manners than that. It's fine."

Alexis rolled her eyes and took her by the arm. They walked out onto the sidewalk, and to Alexis's surprise, Sherlock smiled at them; politely.

"Sherlock, I want you to meet Gwen Murphy," she told him. "She's my best friend. Gwen, this is Sherlock Holmes."

"Pleasure, Gwen," Sherlock told her.

"Likewise. I've heard an awful lot." She shook his hand. "I know you're in a hurry, so I'll be brief in saying that, from what Alexis has told me, that you sound quite extraordinary and she has been very happy dating you."

"I certainly hope she has been. It's been my primary goal." He smiled at Alexis. "Now, if you wouldn't mind excusing us, Alexis and I have an appointment we need to get to straight away. It was nice to meet you, Gwen."

"You too. Take care."

Sherlock hailed a cab, and the two women looked at each other with eager expressions before Alexis climbed into the car with Sherlock. He far surpassed her expectations of his and Gwen's first meeting, and she would be sure to thank him for that later.

* * *

After twenty minutes of silently x-raying the camera phone, Molly walked into the lab at Bart's. Sherlock didn't give her much of a greeting, but Alexis smiled and said hello despite her slight resentment towards her. She didn't hate Molly; she knew she was a very nice girl. However, she wasn't too keen on the obvious crush she had on him and they way she acted like Alexis wasn't even in the room half the time.

Molly walked over to where Sherlock was sat and furrowed her brow as she looked at the computer monitor.

"Is that a phone?" she asked.

"It's a camera phone," Sherlock told her, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"And you're x-raying it?"

"Yes, I am."

"Whose phone is it?"

"A woman's?"

She made a quick glance over at Alexis. "It's not hers, is it?"

"You think it's Alexis's phone because she's my girlfriend, and therefore I must be x-raying her possessions?"

"Well, we all do silly things." She giggled nervously.

Sherlock suddenly looked over at her, and the look on his face showed Alexis that he had a realization.

"Yes…they do, don't they? Very silly." He stood up and took the phone out of the machine. "She sent this to my address, and she loves to play games."

"She does?" Molly asked, just as nervously as before.

Sherlock proceeded to type "221B" into the phone, and frowned when it didn't work. He put the phone back in the machine and continued examining it, not uttering another word. Molly quietly left the room, and Alexis silently prayed he would find what he was looking for.

* * *

They were back at the flat half an hour later, and though Sherlock didn't seem to find anything in particular, he appeared to be satisfied with what he found. Alexis was the first to enter the living room, and she found John sitting in the living room watching T.V.

"Hey, did he find anything?" he asked as he stood up from his chair.

"He didn't say, but apart from guessing the wrong passcode, he seemed pretty content once he left the hospital."

"Well, that's all we can hope for, isn't it?"

"Yeah, definitely."

They walked into the kitchen and John pulled out a bottle of wine from the refrigerator. Alexis grabbed the corkscrew from one of the drawers and was ready to hand it to him when she saw Sherlock standing in the side doorway, a suspicious look on his face.

"Sherlock? What is it?" she asked him.

He said nothing but put a finger to his lips, signaling for both of them to stay quiet. He began to sniff the area and walked towards the kitchen window, opening it wider with his hand before walking down the hall to his room. The two of them followed close behind, stopping in the center of the hallway when he put a hand up. He slowly entered his room, and when he turned to look at his bed, he straightened up. A placid expression spread across his face and he turned his head toward them.

"We have a client."

"What, in your bedroom?" John joked.

They both walked into the room, and their stomachs dropped when they saw what was lying in Sherlock's bed.

"Oh…" was all John could say.

Asleep in Sherlock's bed, snuggled comfortably under the covers, was Irene Adler.


	35. Chapter 34

_**Here we are everyone! The moment you've all been waiting for! Alexis and Irene are finally going to meet! :D Enjoy!**_

_**Aussieflower: Thank you! And I didn't think that, at this point, Sherlock would be rude or cross with Gwen. In my mind, he could read her right away and know that she was a dear friend to Alexis and had always been there for her, and this pleased him about her.**_

* * *

It took everything Alexis had not to lunge forward and choke Irene Adler in her sleep. Though she was no longer mad at Sherlock regarding her, she was still disgusted that she would sneak into his flat and fall asleep in his bed. Sherlock knew she would be upset, so he had them all go out into the living room and wait for her to wake up; he could tell from the way her eyes moved that she was actually awake when they all entered the room, so he knew they wouldn't have to wait too long.

She emerged from the room five minutes later, a smirk on her face as she made eye contact with Sherlock. Alexis scowled when she saw that she was wearing one of her robes, and made a mental note to burn it in the fireplace once she left.

Irene approached Alexis, and she stood up to face her. She was about four inches taller than Irene, and that pleased her.

"Alexis Gilmore, isn't it? Sherlock Holmes's loyal girlfriend. Irene Adler, it's a pleasure."

Irene held her hand out for Alexis to shake, but she merely stared into her eyes intensely. After a moment of this, her expression softened and she shook her hand. The two men exhaled in relief.

"I hope you don't mind that I made myself comfortable, Mr. Holmes," Irene told Sherlock as she sat down on a chair placed in the middle of the room. "I haven't been living in the best conditions as I usually do."

"Clearly. So, who's after you?"

"People who want to kill me," she said, leaning forward in the chair.

"Who's that?"

"Killers."

"It would help if you were a tiny bit more specific," John told her.

They both ignored his comment, and Sherlock continued. "So you faked your own death in order to get ahead of them."

"It worked for a while," she replied.

"Except you let John know you were alive, and therefore me."

"I knew you'd keep my secret."

"You couldn't."

"But you did, didn't you?"

He said nothing and glanced over at Alexis. She smiled slightly and Irene continued.

"Where's my camera phone?"

"It's not here. We're not stupid," John said.

"Then what have you done with it? If they've guessed you've got it, they'll be watching you."

"If they've been watching me, they'll know that I took a safety deposit box at a bank on the Strand a few months ago," Sherlock replied flatly.

"I need it."

"Well, we can't just go and get it, can we?" Alexis chimed in.

"No," John agreed. He thought for a moment, then perked up. "Molly Hooper, she could collect it and take it to Bart's. Then one of your homeless network could bring it here, leave it in the café and one of the boys downstairs could bring it up in the back."

"Very good, John. Excellent plan full of intelligent precautions," Sherlock told him in a seemingly proud tone.

"Thank you, so why don't I phone…" He went to pull his phone out of his pocket, only to put it right back as Sherlock pulled the camera phone from his jacket. Alexis smiled at him sadly.

"So," Sherlock began as Irene stood up, now on full alert, "what do you keep on here? In general, I mean."

"Pictures, information, anything I might find useful," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

"For blackmail?" John asked bitterly.

"For protection," she corrected. "I make my way in the world, I misbehave. I like to know people will be on my side exactly when I need them to be."

"So how do you acquire this information?" Sherlock asked.

"I told you. I misbehave."

"But you've acquired something that's more danger than protection. Do you know what it is?"

"Yes. But I don't understand it."

"I assumed. Show me."

She held out her hand, expecting him to hand her the phone, but he held it away from her.

"The passcode," he told her.

She held her gaze for another moment, and so he handed her the phone. Alexis couldn't believe he buckled so easily; that is, until she entered the passcode and the phone wouldn't accept it.

"It's not working," Irene pointed out.

Sherlock stood up and walked over to his chair, grabbing the phone from her and digging out something from the cushions. "No, because it's a duplicate I had made into which you've just entered the numbers 1058. I assumed you'd choose something more specific than that, but, thanks anyway."

John and Alexis smiled at each other, loving how clever he was. He took out the real phone and typed in the numbers, and all three of them furrowed their brows when the phone didn't accept the passcode.

"I told you that camera phone was my life," Irene said to him. "I know when it's in my hand."

"Oh, you're rather good," Sherlock told her, handing her the real phone.

"You're not so bad." She shot him a flirty look, earning a look of disgust from both John and Alexis. This amused her, and she walked over to the table. "There was a man. An M.O.D. official, and I knew what he liked. One of the things he liked was showing off. He told me this e-mail was going to save the world. He didn't know it, but I photographed it. He was a bit tied up at the time. It's a bit small on that screen, can you read it?"

Sherlock walked over to the other side of the table and sat down, Alexis following close behind. He took the phone from Irene and looked at the screen. "Yes," he replied, reading the e-mail carefully.

"Code, obviously. I had one of the best cryptographers in the country take a look at it, though he was mostly upside down, as I recall. Couldn't figure it out."

She leaned in closer as he continued to read the e-mail. Alexis noticed this and rested her hand at the center of his back, leaning over him protectively. This woman was getting way too close for comfort, and she knew it, too.

"What can you do, Mr. Holmes?" she asked him. "Go on, impress a girl."

She started to lean in even closer, as if to kiss him while he was figuring out the e-mail. Alexis glared at her, silently warning her not to move any closer. Irene returned the gaze with the same intensity, but pulled away anyway just as she was about to reach his cheek. She smiled slightly, and Alexis went back to staring at the phone.

"There's a margin for error, but I'm pretty sure there's a 747 leaving Heathrow tomorrow at 6:30 in the evening for Baltimore. Apparently it's going to save the world, I'm not sure how that could be true, but give me a moment, I've only been on the case for eight seconds."

He looked up at John, then back at Alexis, both of them with amazed expressions on their faces. Irene appeared impressed.

"Oh, come on, it's not code, these are seat allocations on a passenger jet. Look! There's no letter I because it can be mistaken for a one. No letters past K, the width of the plane is the limit. The numbers always appear randomly and not in sequence, but the letters have little runs of sequence all over the place. Families and couples sitting together. Only a jumbo is wide enough to need a letter K or rows past 55, which is why there's always an upstairs. There's a row thirteen, which eliminates the more superstitious airlines. Then there's the style of the flight number, 007, that eliminates a few more. And assuming the British point of origin, which would be logical, considering the original source of the information and assuming from the increased pressure on you lately that the crisis is imminent, the only flight that matches all the criteria and departs within the week is the 6:30 to Baltimore tomorrow evening from Heathrow airport."

They continued to look at him in awe, and Irene stared at him intensely.

"Please don't feel obliged to tell me that was remarkable or amazing. John's expressed that thought in every possible variant available to the English language."

Alexis smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

"If you weren't attached, I would have you right here on this desk until you begged for mercy twice."

Irene's statement shocked everyone in the room. Alexis didn't even have time to become angry before Sherlock responded calmly.

"John, please can check those flight schedules, see if I'm right?" He never broke his gaze with Irene as he said this.

John cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yeah, er, I'm on it, yeah."

"I've never begged for mercy in my life," Sherlock told Irene.

"Twice."

"Uh, yeah, you're right," John told him. "Flight 007."

Sherlock turned and looked at him. "What did you say?"

"You're right."

"No, no, after that, what did you say after that?"

"007. Flight 007."

Sherlock pushed Irene to the side and started pacing around the room, muttering 007 over and over again as he went. Clearly, John said something that sparked a familiar instance, and he was struggling to figure out what it was. They all watched as he fought with himself, and after five minutes, he absentmindedly walked down the hall and into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

"Anyone hungry?" Alexis asked out of the blue.

Irene shook her head coolly, and John didn't even have time to respond before she dashed off into the kitchen. He got out of his chair and calmly walked in after her.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked quietly.

Alexis looked frantically through the cupboards, not looking for anything in particular. "I don't know. We're just going to have to wait for Sherlock to come out of his zone. I'm not sure what we're supposed to do about _her _though."

"Yeah, I know. And she doesn't look like she's about to leave anytime soon."

She stared out at Irene, who was now sitting in Sherlock's chair. "I don't exactly plan on being hospitable towards this woman, John."

"Well, as long as you don't kill her, it really doesn't matter to me how you treat her."

She chuckled and walked over to the refrigerator, sighing when she opened it. "Well, looks like we couldn't be hospitable even if we wanted to. Not sure about you, but I don't have much of an appetite anyway."

"I'll have to get some food tomorrow," he told her. Suddenly, his text alert went off in his pocket, and he looked at the phone and sighed. "It's my mate, Bill. He wants to have drinks. Better tell him I can't."

"No, it's okay, you should go."

He looked at her worriedly. "Alexis, I'm not going to leave you here alone with her. I'll just tell him we can do it another night."

"No, John, it really is okay. What are you going to do here anyway?"

"Well, make sure that you don't get hurt."

She smiled. "I don't think this woman wants to kill me, John. Piss me off by openly flirting with my boyfriend, maybe, but I'm no use to her dead. Besides, if she did try anything, I'm sure Sherlock would come out of it just in time to save me. Go and have fun."

He opened his mouth to protest further, but closed it and smiled. "Alright then. I'll be out for a few hours. Just text or call if you need me."

"Thanks. See you."

He walked into the living room and grabbed his coat, nodding at Irene before heading downstairs and out of the flat. Alexis immediately got to work on making tea, not entirely sure why she was doing so but relishing in anything that kept her busy and out of the living room. Occasionally, she would glance out at Irene, making sure she wasn't snooping or stealing. However, she would always be sat in the same place, looking at the mantle of the fireplace. When the tea was finally done, she placed two cups and the teapot on a platter. Before she took it into the living room, she quietly walked down the hall and listened through Sherlock's door. She could hear him faintly muttering to himself, but nothing was understandable. She walked back to the kitchen and took the platter out into the living room.

"Thirsty?" she asked.

Irene looked over at her and raised her eyebrows slightly. "I didn't expect you to be this hospitable. Then again, neither did you."

She placed the platter on the coffee table and sat in John's chair across from her. "Do you take sugar or cream?"

"Straight up is fine with me."

They sipped their tea and sat silently for a few minutes, then Alexis felt the need to speak up.

"I'm curious," she told her.

"Oh? What about?"

"How much do you know about me, exactly?"

Irene grinned. "What makes you think I would know anything about you?"

"Well, when you met Sherlock and John back in September, you apparently told them that I seemed sweet. So at that time, you at least had to know what I looked like and had an idea of my personality."

"Well, what can I say? I was curious about you. It's no secret that Sherlock Holmes was never a compassionate man, Alexis. He wouldn't be the type to show affection towards anyone. But you…you're different. You've managed to make this man fall in love with you, so, obviously, there's something quite intriguing about you."

"I didn't make him do anything. He had the ability to show compassion and affection deep inside him all along. I guess he just didn't have anyone to show it to until I came along."

"That must make you special, then."

Alexis thought about this statement for a moment. She obviously knew she was different because Sherlock was in love with her, but she never felt herself special because of it. Maybe it was her modesty; maybe it was her tendency to be extremely dense.

"Could be," she simply replied. "Anything else you care to mention?"

"Oh, only the boring details. Born in England, younger sister, mother died, moved to America, father died, came back here as soon as you got the chance."

"Those boring details happen to be my life, you know."

"But you should know that I don't take pity on a sad life story, am I right?"

"Of course. Believe me, I don't take it personally."

"It does intrigue me, however, what Sherlock's sad story could possibly be."

She put her cup back on the platter. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come now, Alexis. He's a sociopath, and a genius. Apart from you, he shows no sign of love or affection towards anyone. People aren't born that way."

Alexis glared at her.

"You have no idea how he came to be this way, do you? He's knows everything about you and you trust him with that, but you know nothing of him. Doesn't it bother you? Aren't you the slightest bit curious about the past life of the man you love, Alexis?"

She held her gaze a moment longer, then picked up the platter and rose from her chair. "Well, even if I were, he hasn't told me. And I won't ask. More tea?"

"No…thank you."

That was the end of their conversation. Alexis washed the pot and cups and then walked downstairs to 221C. She'd left a few art projects down there when she'd left Sherlock a week before, and Mrs. Hudson was kind enough to leave them there untouched. For the next three hours, she painted. Anything and everything that came to her mind appeared on the canvas. Some things were beautiful, and some things, well, came from the darkest part of her mind.

* * *

At around five thirty, she went back up to the flat to wash up and see if Sherlock had come out of his room yet. To her surprise, she found him sitting in his chair; alone in the room.

"Hey," she greeted, walking over to sit in John's chair. "Where did she go?"

"Coventry," he answered, looking at the now lit fireplace.

She cocked an eyebrow in amusement. "Did she, now?"

He whipped his head around to face her, coming out of his reverie. "Oh, sorry. She excused herself to the bathroom a while ago."

"Oh, okay." She reached forward and took his hand in hers. "What's Coventry?"

"It's a story. Probably not true. In the Second World War, the Allies knew that Coventry was going to get bombed because they'd broken the German code, but they didn't want the Germans to know that they'd broken the code, so they let it happen anyway."

She couldn't help herself. She rose from her chair and took his face in her hands, kissing him deeply while moving to straddle his lap. When she pulled away, he looked at her with confusion.

"What was that for?"

She smiled and stroked his cheek. "I love you. I love you so much, Sherlock."

His hands moved to her waist, and she rested her forehead against his.

"I love you too, Alexis."

She smiled wider, he doing the same, and she moved in to kiss him once more before-

"Sherlock!"

Mrs. Hudson's distant voice filled the whole flat, and Alexis moved off of him just in time before she entered the living room. With her was one of the men who escorted them to Buckingham Palace all those months ago.

"Sherlock, this man was at the door, is the bell still not working?" she asked him. She turned and faced the man behind her. "He shot it."

Sherlock sighed. "Have you come to take me away again?"

"Yes, Mr. Holmes," the man told him.

"Well, I decline."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope, handing it to him as he said, "I don't think you do."

Sherlock glared at him before pulling out the contents of the envelope. It was a plane ticket for a flight to Baltimore from Heathrow airport. At 6:30.

He put the ticket back in the envelope and placed it in his own jacket pocket. He and Alexis stood up, and he kissed her before walking downstairs with the man. She walked over to the window and watched as they both got into a black car and drove off. She knew that he would most likely be safe, but she was still worried.

As she was about to turn away from the window, something quickly caught her eye. She looked back out and saw another car pull into the spot that Sherlock's car had just vacated. At first, she thought nothing of it, but then the sound of the bathroom door opening in the bedroom caught her attention, and she turned to find Irene walking towards her, her hair done and now wearing an expensive dress.

"Well, it looks like _my _ride is here now," she announced proudly. "I do appreciate the hospitality, Alexis."

Alexis quickly looked back out at the car before facing her once more. "This has something to do with where Sherlock's gone, doesn't it?"

"Oh, you are good. I do believe Mr. Holmes's company has left an impression on you." She walked closer until she was just a foot away from her. "Goodnight, Alexis Gilmore."

She smirked and turned on her heel, walking out of the room and down the stairs. Alexis quickly ran after her and stood at the top of the stairs.

"Irene?"

She looked up at her from the landing.

"Will Sherlock be alright?"

A smiled pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Oh, I think he'll be just fine. Physically, anyway."

With that, she walked out of the flat and got into the car waiting for her. Alexis couldn't move from her spot, only to grip the bannister so she didn't fall forward. _Physically _he'll be alright? But what about emotionally? That one word haunted her mind, and she feared for Sherlock now more than ever. Unfortunately, though, there was nothing she could do, so she went back to the bathroom and washed up, praying the whole time that Sherlock would be okay.


	36. Chapter 35

_**MATURE content!**_

_**Also, this chapter starts right after Sherlock returns from the jumbo jet with Irene Adler. Because, in this story, he's in love with Alexis, just try to picture the conversation he has with Irene after the "because I took your pulse" thing going a little differently. In the show, he talks about love being a disadvantage, but here he doesn't completely feel that way. Make up your own dialogue! And forgive me if I end the chapter awkwardly. This chapter is no less important than the rest, but towards the end it seemed more like an in-between chapter. Form your own opinions!**_

_**And here's another song for Sherlock and Alexis:**_

_**I Won't Let You Go by James Morrison**_

_**Topaz16: I know it probably seemed like it would be because of Alexis's hate towards her, but she's not one to just lunge at someone and proceed to beat them up. While their meeting wasn't particularly friendly, I thought it was just right.**_

* * *

Sherlock walked into his flat two hours, a frenzy of emotions welling up inside of him. He was obviously proud that he defeated Irene Adler, having taken away all of her power and basically leaving her to die without protection. However, it somehow felt…strange. He knew exactly why it did, but it was ridiculous. It was all too simple in the end. Part of him wanted to jump for joy, and the other to punch a hole through the wall. However, when he walked into his bedroom and looked down at his bed, his whole being calmed.

He smiled as he watched Alexis, snuggled under the covers in a peaceful sleep. A small, unconscious smile was present on her face, and it made his own grow wider. As he looked down at her, he realized that nothing else mattered. This beautiful young woman was his entire world, and she felt the same way about him. It humbled him to be loved by her. She was perfect. She was everything. She was _the_ woman.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and put his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it gently to wake her. She moaned lowly in confusion as she slowly opened her eyes. When she was finally able to focus and see that it was Sherlock, she smiled, but immediately sat up when she remembered the events of that day.

"Hey, what happened?" she asked him, steadying herself by gripping his arms.

"I was taken to the plane at the back of Heathrow airport where my brother…and Miss Adler were waiting. Having deciphered that e-mail on her phone apparently caused her to gain the upper hand. But, just as it appeared that she would win this, bring the nation to its knees…I was able to determine the passcode to her camera phone."

Alexis smiled and gasped in delight. "I knew you would, Sherlock!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight, then slowly pulled away and looked at him questioningly. "What was the passcode?"

He exhaled. "S-H-E-R."

She furrowed her brow. "S-H…?" It took her a moment to put it together, but she remembered that the passcode entry screen read "I am locked." She frowned and looked down at the sheets. "Wow…she really did like you, didn't she? Can't say I blame her for that."

He put a finger under her chin and gently brought her face up to his.

"I can."

She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. They wrapped their arms around each other and lie down on the bed, once more making love and embracing the fact that they were so much in love and not about to leave each other ever again.

* * *

January 3, 2012

Alexis woke up and begrudgingly got ready for work the next morning. She'd quickly learned that being in a relationship with Sherlock made things like work seem extremely boring, but she forced herself to be an adult and went anyway. Sherlock was still showering when she went out into the kitchen. John was pouring himself a bowl of cereal, probably the only food source left in the flat.

"Morning," he greeted. "How did everything go yesterday?"

She smiled. "Just fine. I'm sure Sherlock is going to tell you all about it."

"That good, eh?"

"Oh, yes." She grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and helped herself to the cereal, all the while glancing over at John. He quickly noticed his and smirked.

"Was there something else, Alexis?"

She sighed and put down the box. "Yeah, actually. Something that I, and what should be Sherlock as well, wanted to talk to you about. Now's as good a time as any, so here it goes. Sherlock asked me to move into the flat. Permanently."

He smiled. "Oh yes?"

"Yes…and, to be honest, I want to. I mean, I've spent most of my time here in the past few months anyway, and we've gotten on fine with that. However, I still felt it necessary to run it by you. He thinks it's stupid because he 'knows' that you'll go for it, but you live here too, and if you think it'll get to crowded, I'll completely understand."

He thought about it for a moment, looking up at the ceiling as he went over the pros and cons of the idea in his mind. He knew things would get a bit more crowded, and that he would be a bachelor living with a couple. The idea was unconventional and could definitely fail miserably. But, despite this, he knew he wouldn't have it any other way.

He looked back at her and smiled. "Do you seriously think I'd ever tell you 'no'?"

She smiled and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, John."

"Didn't I tell you he would agree?"

Alexis pulled away from him and saw Sherlock standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a knowing look on his face.

"Yeah, well, don't worry," John told him. "Other than the fact that I like her, it'll be nice to have a permanent resident who doesn't steal my laptop or blow up my beer cans."

She stifled a giggle as Sherlock narrowed his eyes at him.

"I merely confiscate your laptop. Mine always seems to be in the bedroom."

She walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek, resting a hand on his stomach. "The walk would do you good," she teased.

He couldn't help but smile, and he leaned down to kiss her. John lowered his head to give them privacy, an action that he realized he would probably have to do often in the coming days.

* * *

Alexis moved into Baker Street that night, John unfortunately having done most of the physical work. Sherlock did, however, pay the landlord the remaining month's rent for her, and she thanked him profusely for it; three times, to be exact.

Things didn't change too much around the flat, only that it had a few of Alexis's things in it now. She kept all of her artwork down in 221C, just like Mrs. Hudson promised she could. She also contributed with rent and groceries, though John still thought Sherlock should be doing more of that. Nevertheless, all was well, and Alexis being there made 221B a little bit brighter.

* * *

March 12, 2012

Two months later, Sherlock and Alexis were sitting in the kitchen, Sherlock observing specimens through his microscope while Alexis watched him work. She tried to hide that she was doing so by occasionally drawing in her sketchbook, but he knew better. In fact, it endeared him.

About an hour later, John walked into the flat, soaking wet and carrying what looked like a file. Alexis looked at him curiously while Sherlock continued to look through the microscope.

"Clearly you've got news," Sherlock said, noting John's expression and posture out of the corner of his eye. "If it's about the Leeds triple murder, it was the gardener. Did nobody notice the earring?"

John glanced down at the file he was carrying, clearly feeling uncomfortable. "Hi. Uh, no, it's um…" He looked over at Alexis somewhat apologetically. "It's about Irene Adler."

Sherlock and Alexis both looked up at him. Neither appeared upset at the sound of her name, just curious.

"Well," Sherlock began, "has something happened? Has she come back?"

"No, no, she's…I just bumped into Mycroft downstairs, he had to take a call."

"Is she back in London?"

"No. She's dead, Sherlock."

Alexis's eyes widened. "Dead? What happened?"

John cleared his throat. "She was, uh, captured by a terror cell in Karachi, and beheaded."

_Good, _she thought.

Sherlock wasn't sure what to say. This appeared to be a bit of a shock to him, but he didn't seem too upset.

"Is that her file?" he asked him.

"Yes, I was just going to take it back to Mycroft. Did you want to-?"

"No," he told him, looking back through the microscope.

"Right. Well, I should get this back to Mycroft, then."

"Yes."

John stood there awkwardly for a moment, then nodded at Alexis before walking back downstairs.

Alexis stared down at her sketchbook, guilt wracking through her entire body as she realized what she'd thought a moment ago. She thought it was good that this woman was murdered. Sure, she wasn't a saint obviously, but there were far worse people out there. She closed her sketchbook and got up from the chair, walking towards the living room before she felt Sherlock's hand wrap around her wrist.

"You don't have to feel guilty, you know."

She turned around to face him. "What?"

"You know what."

She sighed, and he took both of her hands in his. She looked at him sadly.

"Wishing death on someone like that, Sherlock…it's beneath me. I'm not exactly proud of it."

"I know it's beneath you. It still is. It's understandable that you would feel this way considering the history, but the fact that you initially regret having thought such a thing proves that you are still a good, and loving, woman."

She smiled and kissed him. "I love you."

"I love you as well. And she's not dead."

Her mouth went agape. "She's not?"

"No. She texted me a few months ago, one final text. 'Goodbye, Mr. Holmes.' I had a connection of mine look into it, and apparently, she's in America."

"America?"

"She's gotten herself into a Witness Protection scheme. New life, new identity. I don't suspect we'll be seeing her again."

"Really? God, that's…interesting. So, she doesn't have any of her connections or resources, but she gets to live another day. Maybe it will do her some good."

"Perhaps."

She moved closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. She put her hand on the sleeve of his shirt and smiled. "You're wearing the shirt I got you for your birthday."

"Of course I am. It's been months since you've given it to me, and it's not like I haven't worn it before."

"I know, it's just…"

Her voice trailed off as she took his face gently in her hands and kissed him. His hands moved up her back as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. He slid his tongue gently into her mouth, and her hands went into his hair. She moaned as he rose from the chair and picked her up bridal style, blindly carrying her to his bedroom. She couldn't help but laugh when he accidently bumped her into the doorway, causing her to hit her foot. Knowing she was alright, he threw her on the bed and dove on top of her, making her shriek just before he covered his mouth with hers.

They removed each other's clothes quickly, and Sherlock wasted no time in abusing her body with kisses. As he mouthed at her neck, she reached down and cupped his aroused member, causing him to whimper into her neck. He moved to look into her eyes, his dark with desire as a devilish grin crept onto his face. He shot down to her chest and cupped a breast, bringing it to his mouth and sucking intensely.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, oh god," Alexis whimpered, digging her hands into his hair.

He alternated breasts a few more times before moving down her stomach, mouthing at the soft skin and abs. She giggled lightly at the feeling, and they slowly faded into moans as he worked his way down to her center. He wasted no time in pressing his mouth against her, moving his tongue through her folds as he reached beneath her to cup her backside. He licked her all the way through her climax and aftershocks, pressing a kiss to her clit before moving back up her body and kissing her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. He pulled her into his arms and moved them so they were sitting up on the bed. She moved up onto his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist as he slowly lowered her onto him. He fastened an arm around her waist to keep her steady, and began to slowly move within her. She ran her hands along his pecs as he kissed her once more. His thrusts gradually became faster, hitting her all the way to the crux each time. She ripped her mouth away from his and rested her forehead against his, concentrating on her breathing so she didn't suffocate from the pleasure. They both felt their climax nearing, and they continued to thrust at an even faster pace. Alexis began to moan through her lips, the sounds growing louder until she finally screamed through her climax. Sherlock buried his face into her neck as his own ripped through him.

They both fell back onto the bed, Sherlock lying on top of her. They were still for a few minutes, their breathing shallow as Alexis stroked the side of Sherlock's face. He smiled and softly kissed her, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him. She snuggled close and lay there with him for a while, both of them physically well spent and emotionally happier than ever.


	37. Chapter 36

_**Hounds of Baskerville time! :D**_

_**Milify-star: Thank you so much! My only concern was the actual wording, you know? Just felt that the last sentence was a bit awkward.**_

_**Fantasy-Bard: Oh don't worry! It's been exactly the same with me! Work is annoying and I start college in about a month, so I understand completely! I so appreciate your reviews and I will update as often as I can!**_

_**Black-rose Marley: No, I didn't have him save her. She was able to get out of it with outside assistance. I may or may not address how further on down the line.**_

* * *

March 19, 2012

A week had gone by, and Sherlock had no cases. He was growing more and more bored, and John and Alexis were growing more and more agitated. However, much to their delight, Sherlock managed to snag himself a case early that morning and had been out of the flat.

Alexis had decided to take a week off of work, so she slept in that day. When she woke up, she immediately went in for a shower. As she was washing her hair, she could swear she heard John talking to someone out in the living room, but she rode it off. However, when she was pouring body wash onto her bath pouf, she heard the bathroom door creak open.

"Sherlock?" she asked, not even bothering to open the curtain.

"Yes. Who else would it be?" His tone was stern, as if he were disappointed about something.

"How did the case go?" she asked as she washed herself quickly.

"Fine. Solved it quickly. It could have been worse. Maybe."

She heard the sound of his pants unzipping. He was getting undressed.

"I'm sorry it wasn't as challenging as you liked," she told him, quickly rinsing the soap from her body and leaning against the side of the shower. "But maybe if you get in here fast enough, I could- Oh my God! Sherlock!"

He pulled the shower curtain open and revealed his face, neck, and hands to be covered with blood. She moved to the back of the shower as he calmly stepped in and pulled the curtain shut.

"Hand me the washcloth, will you?" he asked. He turned around and saw that she was looking at him with wide eyes. "What?" he questioned, acting like this was the most normal thing in the world.

"Sherlock, whose blood is this?!"

"Well, it's certainly not mine."

"But whose is it?!"

"It's the blood of a pig carcass. I'll be happy to explain the case to you, but first, I need to rid myself of this filth." He grabbed the washcloth and proceeded to wipe his face.

Alexis looked at him with disbelief, but grabbed her own bath pouf and poured some of Sherlock's soap onto it. She gently scrubbed the back of his neck.

"What are you doing?" he asked, turning his neck slightly.

"Helping," she told him, reaching around the front of him. "Turn around, I need to get the front of your neck."

He automatically complied and shut his eyes while she worked. His hands subconsciously drifted to her waist as she worked her way down to his mid-chest. Her administrations were gentle, yet tough enough to get the job done. She smiled when she heard him moan deep in his throat.

"You'll have to do your hair. You're tall and I can't quite reach that high."

"Right." He took the shampoo and scrubbed it through his hair quickly and roughly. While he did this, Alexis washed the rest of his back and his chest. He washed the remaining shampoo from his hair, turning around to face her. He looked into her eyes, and the intensity of his gaze made her drop the bath pouf. He backed her up to the shower wall and pinned her with his body.

"Sherlock…what are you doing?" she asked him, her hands drifting to his chest.

He moved his mouth until it was just inches from hers. "You know what."

His words sent a shiver up her spine as he closed the gap between them.

* * *

"I cannot believe how much of an asshole you are being right now, Sherlock Holmes!"

Once the two of them had gotten out of the shower, things went completely downhill. Despite having had a case that morning, Sherlock immediately grew bored again. The two of them fought for close to an hour before Sherlock delivered the low blow. He told Alexis she was boring him.

"If my presence is so dull and it's making you suffer, then I think I'll just go out for a walk! Anything to make Sherlock Holmes happy even when he's making everyone around him absolutely miserable!"

She slammed the door of his bedroom and stormed out to the kitchen, greeting a stunned John curtly before heading down the stairs. She could hear Sherlock walk out of the bedroom and say something to John as she shrugged into her coat. She quickly walked out the door and headed down the sidewalk, not entirely sure where she wanted to go. As she glanced back down the street, she saw Sherlock emerge from the door of the flat, and quickly turned around and walked away quickly.

She felt his hand grab her wrist tightly, and she turned around to glare at him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked her.

She furrowed her brow. "What? You don't want me to leave?"

"No, not particularly."

She scoffed. "Wow! First, you insult me by telling me I bore you, among other things, and yet you don't want me leaving the flat?! What is wrong with you?"

"Your temper isn't helping the situation, Alexis."

"My temper?! Do you even realize what you're saying? I'm leaving now."

She went to turn away, but he spun her back around and lifted her up onto his shoulder. She screamed and started hitting him on the back.

"Sherlock Holmes, put me down right now! I can't believe you!"

She continued to scream and fuss all the way back to the flat, her cheeks red from anger and embarrassment. He remained holding her as he walked up the stairs and into the living room.

"Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?" John asked as he shot up from his chair.

"He's being fucking ridiculous, John!" Alexis yelled.

"Sherlock, come on! Just put her down."

"I will," he announced as he walked them into the bedroom.

He deposited her on the floor and she immediately smacked him in the face. She tried doing it once more but he grabbed her wrist and pinned it to her side. He backed her up and sat her on the bed, quickly grabbing his blue robe before dashing out the door. He closed it quickly and pulled a key from his pocket, locking Alexis in.

"Sherlock? Sherlock?! Sherlock, I can't believe you! Open the fucking door right now!"

Alexis fought with the handle as John made his way down the hall.

"Sherlock, you didn't seriously just lock your girlfriend in your bedroom?!"

"Yes, I did. She wasn't behaving, so I had to teach her a lesson."

"Sherlock, this is madness. Unlock the door, she didn't do anything!"

Sherlock sighed. "Fine."

He unlocked the door, and Alexis immediately burst through the doorway. She was manic.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" she yelled, getting in his face.

"What?" Sherlock asked innocently. "I've done as you asked, you're free from the bedroom. However, judging by the size of this flat and your tendency to lock yourself in your bedroom whenever you're upset, you will be going right back in there as soon as we're done here. Not much point in me letting you out, was there?"

She opened her mouth to respond, unable to find the words. She stuttered a few times before screeching through her teeth and slamming the door behind her. Sherlock smiled smugly at the door and walked out into the living room, an irritated John following close behind.

* * *

Alexis sulked in the bedroom for half an hour before her boredom started to kick in. There was no doubt that she was still furious with Sherlock and didn't want to even look at him right then, but she couldn't just sit in there all day. She stood up and walked over to the door, ready to turn the knob before she heard Sherlock ranting out in the living room. She pressed her ear to the door and listened in.

"…_I need something stronger than tea! Seven percent stronger," _Sherlock whined. There was a brief pause before he began again. "_You've been to see Mr. Chatterjee again."_

_ "Pardon?" _came Mrs. Hudson's innocent voice.

Alexis slowly opened the door and stood in the doorway. He was going to analyze her. This would not end well.

"Sandwich shop," Sherlock continued. "That's a new dress, but there's flour on the sleeve. You wouldn't dress like that for baking."

"Sherlock," John warned.

"Thumbnail, tiny traces of foil. Been at the scratch cards again. We all know where that leads, don't we?" He sniffed the air loudly. "Mmm, Casbah Nights. Pretty racy for first thing on a Monday morning, wouldn't you agree? I've written a little blog on the identification of perfumes. It's on the website, you should look it up."

"Please," Mrs. Hudson told him. She was getting agitated now.

"I wouldn't pin your hopes on that cruise with Mr. Chatterjee. He's got a wife in Doncaster that nobody knows about."

"Sherlock!" John yelled. Mrs. Hudson gasped and stepped back.

"Well, nobody except me!" Sherlock pointed out.

"I don't know what you're talking about! I really don't!"

Mrs. Hudson stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Sherlock jumped over his chair and sat down on it, his arms wrapping around his legs. Alexis glowered at him as she strode down the hall. He looked up at her, and they held an intense gaze for a moment before Alexis walked down the stairs to Mrs. Hudson's flat.

"Mrs. Hudson?" she asked gently as she stepped into her flat. She walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. She found her washing dishes at the sink, slamming them onto the counter as she dried each one.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Hudson?"

She turned to briefly look at her, then looked back down at the sink. "Alexis, you know I love Sherlock like a son, but there are days where I just can't handle him! Did you hear what he just said to me?"

"Yes, unfortunately. He's been bored for about a week now, and trust me, you're not the only woman in his life who's felt that wrath."

Mrs. Hudson looked over at her sadly. "He was rude to you, too? His own girlfriend?" She slammed a pot against the counter, making Alexis jump a little. "Oh, that young man is out of control!"

Alexis walked over to the sink and grabbed a dish and a sponge. "He told me I was boring him, and for me, that's a really low blow."

"Oh, dear, I'm sure he didn't mean it, just as I'm sure he didn't mean to be so rude with me."

"Yeah…I know. Sherlock kind of has this way about him. He makes it impossible for you to stay mad at him for very long. If you really care about him, that is."

"Oh, yes. He does, doesn't he?"

"Yeah. But I'm still so furious with him! Did you know he actually tried to lock me in the bedroom?"

"Oh, no!"

"Yes! And before that, he threw me over his shoulder out on the sidewalk and dragged me back into the flat! In front of everybody!"

"Goodness! He didn't!"

"Oh, yes he did! And the weird part was we were having a good morning! Then, all of a sudden, we're screaming at each other! Well, I was really the only one screaming, but nevertheless it wasn't pleasant."

Mrs. Hudson rested a hand on her arm. "I'm sure you two will make up soon. You always do."

"I know, thanks. But the trouble is, I don't want him to think he got away with it! And I'm going to have a serious issue if he doesn't apologize to you."

"Oh, well, even if he doesn't, I won't mind. I understand how Sherlock is, and, as difficult as it can be, I accept it." She scrubbed the pot she was holding a little while longer, then she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Everything alright, Mrs. Hudson?"

She dropped the pot in the sink and threw the sponge on the counter. "I just realized…Mr. Chatterjee lied to me! He's in the café right now, and I'm going to give that man a piece of my mind! Excuse me, Alexis."

She walked swiftly out of the room and up the stairs, slamming the door behind her. Alexis legitimately feared for that man's safety, for an angry Mrs. Hudson was a dangerous Mrs. Hudson.

She finished up on the dishes and put them back in the cupboards. After scanning the rest of the room for anything else that needed tidying up, and realizing that this was Mrs. Hudson's flat, she decided she had to go back up to the flat. When she approached the door, she heard Sherlock and John talking with someone. A man, someone they didn't know. She crept into the kitchen through the side door and walked over to start making tea. She glanced over at the three of them, accidentally making eye contact with Sherlock and quickly looking away.

"How on earth did you notice all that?" the man asked. Judging by his tone, Alexis realized that Sherlock had just observed something about him that only the man would know. The third analysis of the day was coming.

"It's not important-" John started to say, but Sherlock cut him off.

"Punched out holes where your ticket's been checked."

"Not now, Sherlock."

"Oh, please? I've been cooped up in here for ages."

"You're just showing off."

"Of course. I _am _a show off. That's what we do." He turned back to face the man. "Train napkin you used to mop up the spilled coffee, strength of the stain shows that you didn't take milk. There are traces of ketchup on it and around your lips and on your sleeve. Cooked breakfast, or there nearest thing those trains can manage. Probably a sandwich."

"How did you know it was…disappointing?" the man asked him, chuckling nervously.

"Is there any other type of breakfast on a train? The girl, female handwriting's quite distinctive, wrote her phone number down on the napkin. I can tell from the angle she wrote at that she was sat across from you on the other side of the aisle. Later, after she'd got off, I imagine, you used the napkin to mop up your spilled coffee, accidentally smudging the numbers. You went over the last four digits yourself with another pen so you wanted to keep the number. Just now, though, you used the napkin to blow your nose. Maybe you're not that into her after all. Then there's the nicotine stains on your fingers, your _shaking _fingers. I know the signs. No chance to smoke one on the train, no time to roll one before you got a cab here. It's just after nine fifteen, you're desperate. The first train from Exeter to London leaves at 5:46 a.m. You got the first one possible, so something important must have happened last night. Am I wrong?"

The entire room was silent. John merely looked down at his notepad in shame while the man looked at him with pure shock. Alexis, having been taken in completely by his analysis, started to pour a cup of tea over the sink, but when Sherlock looked over at her and smirked, she realized that the cup had been overflowing. She let out a surprised "Oh!" and put down the teapot, wiping the side of the cup quickly. Sherlock's smirk grew wider as he noticed the blush rising in her cheeks. He looked back at the man across from him.

"No. You're right. You're…You're completely, exactly right. Bloody hell, I heard you were quick."

"It's my job." He leaned forward in his chair. "Now shut up and smoke."

The man pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it as John continued to ask him questions. From this, Alexis learned that his name was Henry.

"Henry, your parents both died and you were, what seven years old? I know, but…"

His voice trailed off as he watched Sherlock get up from his chair and loudly inhale the smoke that Henry just exhaled. He glanced over at Alexis briefly, and she covered her face with her hand and leaned down over the sink. Henry merely looked at him in disbelief before John continued, attempting to make light of the situation.

"That must be, uh, quite a trauma. Have you ever thought that maybe you invented this story, this-"

He was cut off as Sherlock inhaled the smoke once more. If they didn't lose this client, John and Alexis would be amazed.

"…to account for it?"

Henry shrugged off Sherlock's actions and looked back at John. "That's what Dr. Mortimer says."

"Who?"

"His therapist."

"My therapist." Henry looked at Sherlock with wide eyes.

"Obviously." He smiled briefly.

"Louise Mortimer. She's the reason I came back to Dartmoor. She thinks I…have to face my demons."

Alexis sat down at the kitchen table with her tea, a bit saddened as she could definitely tell that this man was in a lot of pain. A type of pain that she could relate to.

"And what happened when you went back to Dewer's Hollow last night, Henry?" Sherlock asked him. "You went there on the advice of your therapist, and now you're consulting a detective. What did you see that changed everything?"

"It's a strange place, the Hollow. It makes you feel so cold in side, so afraid."

Sherlock sighed. "Yes, if I wanted poetry, I'd read John's e-mails to his girlfriends. Much funnier. What did you see?"

John rolled his eyes, and Alexis smiled at him sadly.

Henry exhaled smoke through his nose, clearly uneasy about what he was going to say. "Footprints. On the exact spot where I saw my father torn apart."

"A man's or a woman's?" John asked him.

"Neither. They were-"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, interrupting him with, "Is that it? Nothing else? Footprints, is that all?"

"Yes, but they were-"

"No, sorry, Dr. Mortimer wins, childhood trauma masked by an invented memory. Boring! Goodbye, Mr. Knight, thank you for smoking."

"But what about the footprints?"

"Oh, well, they're probably paw prints, could be anything, therefore nothing." He got up from his chair and buttoned his jacket. "Off to Devon, with you. Have a cream tea on me."

Alexis shook her head at him and walked back into the bedroom. Any hopes she had of her anger subsiding crashed and burned with his insensitive attitude towards Henry. His parents were dead, his father having died from apparently being slaughtered by something, and he didn't care at all.

About five minutes later, however, Sherlock walked into the bedroom and surprised her.

"We're going to Dartmoor," he announced, grabbing his suitcase from underneath the bed.

Alexis raised her eyebrows unenthusiastically at him. "Oh yes? Well, you and John have fun, then."

"You're coming, too."

She scoffed. "Oh, am I?"

"Yes, you are."

"Sherlock, you don't get it, do you? You have done so many things to me this morning, so many _bad _things, and so, I am mad at you! Is that so hard to grasp?"

"No, I don't suppose not, but nevertheless, I want you to come with us."

"I don't think I'm up for it, Sherlock. Not even if you threw me over your shoulder and dragged me to the train station. Sound familiar?"

"Did it ever occur to you that I did that because I wanted you here with me?"

"No, not really. It only occurred to me that you are insane!"

"I didn't want you to leave, Alexis."

"So then why didn't you just _tell _me that? Or, better yet, why didn't you apologize?"

"Apologize? For what?"

"You said I was boring you, Sherlock! You know how I feel about that."

He sighed, walking closer to her and taking her hand. "Very well. I am sorry. For everything."

"Even with the way you treated Henry just now?"

"What? I took the case."

She exhaled. "Fine. Come here."

He leaned down and kissed her deeply. She pulled him in for a hug and held him tightly.

"I love you, Sherlock," she whispered into his neck.

"I love you too, Alexis," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "And you don't bore me. You never do. I was wrong to say that."

"Thank you."

He pulled away and looked down at her, then over to the bed. "You know, we have time before the train leaves."

"Oh yes?"

"Yes. So, perhaps we could..."

"Make up properly?"

His eyes were hopeful. "Yes."

She smiled and gave him a small peck on the lips. "Later."

He smiled at her as she grabbed her suitcase.


	38. Chapter 37

_**Two chapters in one day! Woot! Thought I'd treat you people just for the hell of it.**_

_**Quick side note: If you remember back to the birthday present Alexis gave Sherlock, the watch, you can actually see it during the scene where Sherlock and John break into Baskerville! I don't actually write that bit in here, but that's where I got that idea from.**_

_**Sherlockreader: Ah, I see you've just started with my story! I appreciate the reviews, and hopefully you haven't had to wait to long to read this response to your first two reviews XD I hope you enjoy it!**_

* * *

They arrived in Dartmoor at three o'clock. Sherlock rented out a large, black jeep for the trip, and they drove through the massive fields until they came to a point where they were in between a few key geographical locations.

John and Alexis were looking at a map while Sherlock was perched at the top of a large stone outcrop, one of many spread throughout the fields of the moors.

John took the map and pointed out ahead of him. "There's Baskerville," he said, referring to the army base Sherlock had told Alexis about on the train ride. He turned around and pointed toward the mountains. "Uh, that's Grimpen village. So that must be…" They all looked out to a dark, wooded area that rested just below Baskerville. "…yes, Dewer's Hollow."

Sherlock pointed out towards Baskerville, specifically a field between the base and the Hollow. "What's that?"

John pulled out his binoculars and looked out. "A minefield?" He handed them to Alexis and she saw signs with skulls and cross bones, as well as plenty of barbed wire.

"Makes sense. If Baskerville's an army base, they'll want to keep people out," Alexis told them. "That should definitely do the trick."

They made their way to the Cross Keys pub and hotel, the place they would be staying during their time in Dartmoor. John went in to get their room keys while Sherlock roamed about the restaurant area. He told John to get answers about the area, and Alexis sat outside while they did their work.

After a few minutes, she saw Sherlock peeking through the doorway. She followed his path of sight over to a young man who they'd seen walking into the pub. He apparently ran "monster walks", tours through the hollow during the day where he would explain the legend of the hound to the tourists. Sherlock motioned for her to follow him, and they approached the man.

"Mind if we join you?" Sherlock asked him.

He gestured for them to sit down at his table, and they took a seat. Sherlock quickly glanced at Alexis before he continued.

"It's not true, is it? You haven't actually seen this Hound thing?" He chuckled slightly.

"You from the papers?" the man asked him, suspicion written all over his face.

"No, nothing like that. Just curious. Have you seen it?"

"Maybe."

"Got any proof?"

"Why would I tell you if I did? Either of you? Excuse me." He got up from the table and made a move to walk away. John approached them and sat down at the table.

"I called Henry…" he said.

"Bet's off, John. Sorry," Sherlock told him, cutting him off.

"What?" he asked, looking at Alexis and exchanging a look of confusion with her.

"Bet?" the man asked them.

"My plan needs darkness," Sherlock continued, looking at his watch. "We've got another half an hour of light-"

"Wait, wait. What bet?"

"Oh, I bet John here fifty quid that you couldn't prove you'd seen the Hound."

"Yeah, the guys in the pub said you could," John told him, going along with the ruse.

He chuckled and looked at Sherlock. "Well, you're going to lose your money, mate."

"Yeah?" Sherlock asked proudly.

"Yeah. I seen it. Only about a month ago. Up at the hollow." He pulled out his iPhone and searched through it. "It was foggy, mind. Couldn't make much out."

"I see. No witnesses, I suppose?"

"No, but-"

"Never are."

"No, wait." He held the phone up to Sherlock, and on it was a picture of a brown down off in the distance. It didn't look very convincing. "There."

Sherlock chuckled. "Is that it? It's not exactly proof, is it? Alexis, what do you think?"

The man held the phone closer to her and John. She bit her lip.

"It's not very convincing, unfortunately," she told him, not wanting to sound rude. "Sorry."

"Sorry, John, I win," Sherlock said.

"Wait, wait! That's not all!" the man told him. "People don't like going up there, you know. To the hollow. Gives them a…bad sort of feeling."

"Ooh, is it haunted? Is that supposed to convince me?"

"Nah, don't be stupid! Nothing like that. But I reckon there is something out there. Something from Baskerville. Escaped."

"A clone? Super-dog?"

"Maybe. God knows what they've been spraying on us all these years, or putting in the water. I wouldn't trust them as far as I could spit."

"Is that the best you've got?"

His face became more serious, and he leaned in closer to them. "I had a mate once who worked for the MOD. One weekend we were meant to go fishing, but he never showed up. Well, not until late. When he did, he was white as a sheet. I can see him now. 'I've seen things today, Fletch,' he said, 'I ain't never want to see again. Terrible things.' He'd been sent to some secret army pace. Porton Down, maybe? Maybe Baskerville? Or somewhere else. In the labs there, the really secret labs, he said he'd seen…terrible things. Rats as big as dogs, he said. And dogs…dogs the size of horses."

He pulled something from his backpack, and the three of them were met with a concrete cast of a dog's paw print. The print was huge, larger than any the three of them had ever seen.

"Uh, we did say fifty?" John asked, wasting no time in milking this fake bet.

Sherlock glared at the cast and pulled out a fifty pound note from his wallet, getting up from the table and walking away. The man smiled proudly.

"Very impressive," Alexis told him. "I'd say that put him in his place, don't you think John?"

John chuckled. "Yes, I think it did."

"Just trying to get the truth out there," the man told them.

"How often do you have these tours, by the way?" Alexis asked. "I'm actually curious to see the area, hear more about this Hound."

"I've got another going out in about an hour if you wouldn't mind sticking around," he told her, holding out his hand. "I'm Fletcher, by the way."

"Alexis," she said shaking his hand. "And this is John."

"Pleasure," John greeted, shaking his hand as well.

Fletcher looked back over at Alexis and smiled. "Maybe in the meantime, you'd want to get a drink in the pub?"

John nearly choked on his drink as Alexis struggled to hide her surprise. She managed to smile and told him, "Maybe we should stick with the tour of the Hollow. Not sure my bloke would be too keen on a drink considering you just proved him wrong, you know?"

Fletcher cleared his throat. "Right. Well, anyway, one hour." He picked up his sign and placed it at the front entrance before walking back into the pub.

Sherlock walked back towards the table. "We should get on to Baskerville, John."

"I'm sorry, did you say Baskerville?" John asked him in disbelief.

"Yes, weren't you listening? Alexis, I think it's best if you stay here. There really would be no proper explanation for your presence with the plan I've thought up."

"Well, what explanation is there for your presence?" she asked.

"I've got it covered, and John has clearance due to his position in the army."

"Right, well, good luck." She stood up and kissed him. "I'll be going on one of Fletcher's 'monster walks'. I'll see if I can get any information from that."

"You would probably have gotten more information by accepting his invitation for a drink." He had a twinkle in his eye, and she blushed.

"Just go have fun breaking into the military base." She smirked at them and walked back to the hotel room, eager to find what the Hollow tour would bring.

* * *

Unfortunately, however, the tour didn't give her much information. It just turned out to be forty minutes of walking, climbing, and, for Alexis, tripping multiple times over the many hidden rocks in the Hollow. Fletcher gave the tourists an earful, of course, but it was either conspiracy theories or basically what he'd told her, Sherlock, and John. When she got back to the hotel, she was sore, pissed off, and in serious need of an alcoholic drink. She only hoped that Sherlock and John had better luck than she did.

She got back to her room and drew water for a bath, hoping the warm water would relax her muscles before she had to take an aspirin. After about ten minutes sitting in there, she heard the hotel door open. Sherlock was back.

"Alexis?" he asked, shrugging out of his coat.

"Bathroom," she called, sitting up in the tub.

He walked into the room and raised his eyebrows at her. "I take it the tour didn't go as well as you'd hoped."

"Not at all. My entire body is so sore, and I wouldn't be surprised if I sprained an ankle for the amount of times I tripped over a rock."

He walked over and sat on the edge of the tub, leaning over and kissing her. She wrapped her wet arms around his shoulders and moved in closer, whimpering when a sore muscle in her back made itself known.

"I suppose this means we won't be making up tonight," he told her as he pulled away.

"Afraid so. But anyway, what happened at Baskerville?"

"We were allowed in straight away, and we were met by a member of security who proceeded to take us through a tour of the base."

"How did you even get in?"

"I acquired an I.D. of my brother's. Access to all areas."

She chuckled. "Of course. Go on."

"We met a few scientists who work at the base, one being of particular interest to me. Dr. Jacqui Stapleton, the mother of the little girl who contacted me on my website. I told you about her."

"What? Kirsty Stapleton? The little girl with the rabbit?"

"Yes. Her mother specializes in genetic manipulation."

"Wait, so you think she's the reason Kirsty's rabbit was glowing?"

"Yes. She probably removed a fluorescent gene and spliced it into the specimen. Simple enough these days. What I'm more concerned with is if she's working on species larger and deadlier than rabbits."

"As if rabbits weren't scary enough."

He smiled. "Anyway, we're going to see Henry tomorrow, and I'd like you to come."

"Sure, no problem. I'd like to meet Henry."

"The two of you do have a lot in common."

"So I've heard. Losing both of his parents so young…it's hard."

"And you can understand that pain." He took hold of her hand and kissed the back of it. "I'm sorry you can."

"It's okay. Thank you."

He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, then got up from the tub. "I'll let you rest in here for a while. Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you."

He nodded and walked back into the bedroom.

* * *

March 20, 2012

Two aspirins and a good night's sleep later, Alexis was feeling much better the next morning. She, Sherlock, and John piled into the jeep and headed down to Henry's house that afternoon. John and Alexis didn't know Sherlock's plan for dealing with this supposed hound, but they figured it would all fall into place when necessary.

They drove up to Henry's house, and John and Alexis were surprised to see how huge it was; a four story stone mansion with a large front yard. They walked up to the front door and Sherlock rang the doorbell.

"Hi," Henry greeted, holding the door open for them. "Come in. Come in."

They walked into the foyer and Alexis turned to him. "Hi, Henry. We haven't officially met. I'm Alexis."

He shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Alexis."

They walked through the hallway towards the kitchen, John stopping briefly to look into a room before catching up with them.

"Are you, um…rich?" John asked Henry hesitantly.

"Yeah," he replied casually.

Sherlock glared at John and rolled his eyes before following Henry into the kitchen. Henry made them all coffee and proceeded to explain a recurring dream he'd been having to them.

"It's a couple of words. That's what I keep seeing," he told them, slowly stirring the sugar into his coffee. "'Liberty.'"

"Liberty," John repeated, writing it in his notepad.

"'Liberty'," Henry confirmed. "And…'In'. It's just that. Are you finished?"

John nodded, and Henry took the small milk container and put it back in his refrigerator.

"Mean anything to you?" John asked Sherlock quietly.

"'Liberty in death.' Isn't that the expression? The only true freedom?"

Henry turned back to them. "What now, then?"

"Sherlock's got a plan," John told him, looking at Sherlock hopefully.

"Yes."

"Right."

"We take you back out onto the moor…"

"Okay."

"…and see if anything attacks you."

"What?" John asked.

"Yeah, what?" Alexis asked.

"That should bring things to a head," Sherlock told them.

"At night?" Henry questioned. "You want me to go out there at night?" He was starting to look visibly scared now.

"That's your plan?" Alexis asked him.

"Do either of you have any better ideas?"

"That's not a plan," John said.

"Listen, if there is a monster out there, John, there's only one things to do, find out where it lives."

He smiled briefly at Henry before taking another sip of his coffee.

* * *

The four of them headed out to the moor around eight o'clock. The men each held a flashlight as Henry led them out into Dewer's Hollow. Alexis was sure she'd remember where to go from the previous day's tour. However, at night, everything looked completely different.

John suddenly put a hand on Alexis's arm, and she turned to find a bright light flashing in the distance.

"Sherlock," John whispered.

"Sherlock?" Alexis repeated.

He and Henry had continued further into the Hollow without them, so they stayed put and watched the light. John pulled out his notepad and started to write in it, glancing up at the light every so often.

"What do you think it is?" Alexis asked him quietly.

"Well…I'd say Morse, but…" He held up the notepad to her, the letters "U-M-Q-R-A" written across a page.

"That's not a word. What does it mean?"

"I have no clue. Come on." He pulled out his flashlight and led them down the trail. "Sherlock?"

They still received no answer and attempted to follow them into the Hollow. They had to take their time, even with the flashlight, for the trail was definite but filled with all sorts of rocks and branches. They didn't know how far they'd gone before they started to hear a strange noise.

"Shh," John instructed.

They listened closely as they identified the sound as a sort of metallic drumming. With it being a forest, there wouldn't be anything natural that could produce that sound, so John scanned the area with his flashlight. They slowly proceeded forward, John continuing his search until he finally spotted the source. There was a large, brown pipe running through the forest, and there was water from a tree branch dripping onto it. Though they both wondered why it was there, they were still relieved to find the source of the eerie noise, and they continued on. However, they didn't take two steps before they heard the sound of a dog howling. Alexis had to cover her mouth to stifle a yelp as she grabbed John on the arm.

"Come on," he whispered, taking hold of her wrist and jogging down the path. Alexis tripped once, causing the knee of her jeans to rip and a branch cutting her skin. She rubbed it briefly before they continued swiftly toward the Hollow, both praying they would find Sherlock and Henry soon.

To their relief, they found Sherlock and Henry walking hurriedly up the path towards them a minute later. Sherlock didn't make eye contact with either of them as he brushed past them, leading the group back out to the moors.

"Did you hear that?" John asked them.

"We saw it! We saw it!" Henry told them frantically.

"You did?" Alexis asked him.

"No. I didn't see anything," Sherlock told them.

"What are you talking about?" Henry asked him in disbelief.

"I didn't. See. Anything."

Sherlock picked up his speed as they made their way out of the forest. Alexis could tell right away that something wasn't right with him. He looked…scared, and she needed to know why.


	39. Chapter 38

_**Minor MATURE content.**_

_**Black-rose Marley: That's one of my favorite parts as well. It shows he's slowly becoming more human. And thank you so much! Maybe I should do it more often!**_

* * *

John took Henry back to his house while Sherlock and Alexis went back to the Cross Keys pub. Sherlock didn't stop as he walked straight to the fireplace, taking off his coat and placing it on the back of one of the armchairs. He sat down in it and completely stilled. Alexis looked over at him worriedly while she waited for their drinks. She quickly thanked Billy and walked over to him, placing a drink on the table beside him and sitting in the middle chair.

"Sherlock?" she asked gently.

No answer.

"Sherlock, what happened out there?" she asked, now placing a hand gently on his arm.

He looked down at her hand briefly, but still didn't reply.

"Won't you tell me what you saw?" She looked at him with sad eyes, but he still refused to answer. She was officially worried now.

John walked up to them and sat in the third armchair. "Well, he is in a pretty bad way," he told them. "He's manic. Totally convinced there's some mutant super-dog roaming the moors. And there isn't, though, is there? 'Cause if people knew how to make a mutant super-dog, we'd know. They'd be for sale. I mean, that's how it works."

Sherlock fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair a bit more, then brought his hands to his lips in prayer style. Alexis kept her eyes fixated on him, fearing he might burst at any second.

"Listen, on the moor," John continued, pulling his notepad out of his pocket, "Alexis and I saw someone signaling. Morse. I guess it's Morse. Doesn't seem to make much sense."

Sherlock took a deep breath and continued to stare at the fireplace, Alexis's anxiety growing.

"U-M-Q-R-A, does that mean anything?" John noted Sherlock's lack of response, but shrugged it off and put the notepad away. "So, okay. What have we got? We know there's footprints, 'cause Henry found them. So did the tour guide bloke. But we all heard something." He furrowed his brow as Sherlock exhaled shakily. "Maybe we should just look for whoever's got a big dog."

"Henry's right," Sherlock finally said.

Alexis perked up immediately, nearly spilling her drink.

"What?" she asked, leaning even closer to him.

"I saw it, too."

"What?" John asked, clearly surprised by his statement.

"I saw it, too, John," he told him more forcefully.

"Just…Just a minute. You saw what?"

"A hound…out there in the Hollow. A gigantic hound." He said the last sentence through gritted teeth, quietly but almost maniacally.

John smirked in disbelief as Sherlock continued to fidget uncomfortably.

"Um…" he began, trying to hide his smile. "Look, Sherlock. We have to be rational about this, okay? Now you, of all people, can't just… Let's just stick to what we know, yes? Stick to the facts."

Sherlock calmed himself long enough to turn to John and say, "Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true."

"What does that mean?"

He picked up his glass and watched as his hand shook, chuckling slightly.

"Look at me, I'm afraid. Afraid." He took a sip and swallowed uneasily.

"Sherlock," John said gently.

"I've always been able to keep myself distant. Divorce myself from feelings. But look, you see?" He smiled wide, more out of nerves than anything, as he held up his glass with his shaking hand once more. "My body's betraying me. Interesting, yes? Emotions. The grit on the lens, the fly in the ointment!"

"Yeah, alright, Spock, just…take it easy," John warned gently, not wanting him to make a scene. "You've been pretty wired lately. You know you have. I think you've just gone out there and got yourself a bit worked up."

"John, come on," Alexis interjected. "You know he doesn't-"

"Worked up?" Sherlock asked in disbelief, ignoring Alexis's statement.

"It was dark and scary-"

"Me?" Sherlock chuckled sarcastically. "There's nothing wrong with me."

He started to breath heavily, slowly rocking back and forth in his chair. He pressed his fingers to his temples and shut his eyes, his breathing becoming more and more shaky.

"Sherlock," John said, both confused and agitated at his behavior.

"Sherlock, it's alright," Alexis whispered, putting her hand back on his arm.

He continued his uneasy breathing, and Alexis looked over at John desperately.

"Sherlock-"

"There is nothing wrong with me! Do you understand?!" Sherlock shouted this at him, causing every patron in the restaurant to look over at the three of them. John looked down at the floor, glaring at it, while Alexis disregarded them completely. Her only concerns were of Sherlock.

"You want me to prove it, yes?" he continued. "We're looking for a dog, yes? A great big dog. That's your brilliant theory. Cherchez le chien! Good. Excellent. Yes! Where shall we start?" He looked around at the patrons and pointed to a man with an older woman sitting at one of the tables. "How about them? The sentimental widow and her son, the unemployed fisherman? The answer's yes."

"Yes?" John asked.

"She's got a West Highland terrier called Whisky. Not _exactly _what we're looking for!"

"Sherlock, for God's sake."

"Look at the jumper he's wearing, hardly worn. Clearly he's uncomfortable in it. Maybe it's because of the material, more likely the hideous pattern. Suggests it's a present, probably Christmas. So, he wants into his mother's good books. Why? Almost certainly money. He's treating her to a meal, but his own portion is small. That means he wants to impress her, but he's trying to economize on his own food."

"Well, maybe he's just not hungry," John told him.

"No. Small plate. A starter. He's practically licked it clean. She's nearly finished her pavlova. If she'd treated him, he'd have had as much as he wanted. He's hungry, alright, and not well off. You can tell that from the state of his cuffs and shoes. 'How do you know she's his mother?' Who else would give him a Christmas present like that? Well, it could be an aunt or an older sister, but mother's more likely. Now, he was a fisherman. The scarring pattern on his hands is very distinctive, fishhooks. They're all quite old now, which suggests he's been unemployed for some time. Not much industry in this part of the world, so he's turned to his widowed mother for help. 'Widowed?' Yes! Obviously. She's got a man's wedding ring on a chain around her neck, clearly her late husband's and too big for her finger. She's well dressed but her jewelry's cheap. She could afford better, but she's kept it. Sentimental. Now, the dog. Tiny little hairs all over the leg from where it gets a little bit too friendly, but no hairs above the knee, suggesting it's a small dog, probably a terrier. In fact, it is a West Highland Terrier called Whisky. 'How the hell do you know that, Sherlock?' Because she was on the same train as us and I heard her calling its name. And that's not cheating, that's listening. I use my senses, John, unlike some people. So, you see, I am fine. In fact, I've never been better. So just leave. Me. Alone."

An awkward silence hung about the three of them. Alexis was stunned by that analysis, but her concern never wavered.

John cleared his throat. "Yeah, okay. Okay."

Sherlock struggled to catch his breath after not having stopped for one since his rant began. Alexis tightened her grip on his arm.

"Well, why would you listen to me?" John asked. "I'm just your friend."

"I don't have friends," Sherlock replied bitterly.

Alexis exhaled quietly, dropping her head and covering her face with her hand. He'd gone too far now.

"No. Wonder why." He rose from his chair and grabbed his coat, walking out of the restaurant.

"John, wait a minute!" Alexis called, but he ignored her and walked out into the night. She took a deep breath and turned back to Sherlock, who had now steadied his breathing and was staring at the fireplace. She stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to say next.

"Are you going to be alright?" she asked him.

He turned his head and looked at her. "I told you, I'm fine. I figured you would be more concerned about John considering what I just said to him."

"I'm concerned about _you_. John will get over it, he always does. Besides, I know you didn't mean that."

"You sound very sure of that."

"That's because I know it's true. Plus, you've actually called him your friend on more than one occasion, so I figured that must mean something."

"Hmm."

They sat silently for another moment, then Alexis rested her hand on his knee.

"Hey, look," she began, biting her lip. "I was scared, too. Being in that Hollow at night, hearing all those strange noises. And then that howl…I can't imagine what it must have been like to actually see it."

He took hold of her hand. "It was terrible. It was immense. It's eyes burned red. It looked right at me. It was…terrifying."

She put her hand on his cheek and turned him to face her, kissing him softly. "You'll figure it out. You always do. And you won't be alone, we'll help you. Clearly, there's something not right about this whole thing. We just have to figure out what that is."

"Hmm."

"Come on, let's go back to the room." She went to get up from the chair, but Sherlock pulled her back down gently by the arm.

"Wait," he told her.

"What? Why?"

"Look over at the bar. The woman who just walked in. Dark hair, red dress."

She looked over nonchalantly and saw this very woman. "Okay, but what about her?"

"She's Louise Mortimer, Henry's therapist."

"She is? How do you know that?"

"The way she's dressed indicates she's a professional, but more in a business casual sense. The way she just smiled at the bartender shows she's friendly and personable, but it wasn't a broad smile, so she knows to keep her distance. Also, she's carrying a notebook. Not too large, not too small. A therapist's notebook perhaps, she could be a writer but she doesn't have a pen attached to it, nor is she holding it close to her. That, and the bartender just greeted her by her full name."

"Using your senses, again?" She smiled warmly at him, and it was impossible for him to be annoyed with her.

"I'll need to take a picture of her, send it to John and have him interview her."

"Why John?"

"Take a closer look."

She looked more closely at her, looking at her face and noticing how pretty she was.

"Ah, I see."

"He can relate to her, both being doctors of sorts."

He took the picture discreetly, then texted John before sending it to him. The two of them left the restaurant before he could arrive and went back to their room.

* * *

Once they were there, Alexis walked over to the dresser and started to change into her pajamas while Sherlock sat in the chair on the other side of the bed. He sat there with his fingers pressed to his temple as she undressed, carefully pulling off her jeans and then her shirt. She turned around to grab her pajamas from the bed, and he noticed the cut on her knee.

"You've scraped your knee," he pointed out, getting up from the chair and walking over to her.

"Oh," she responded, looking down at her knee. "It didn't hurt much. It'll be fine."

"No." He grabbed the first aid kit from his suitcase and knelt in front of her. "Sit down on the bed, I'll take care of it."

He got up briefly and walked into the bathroom, emerging with a wet washcloth. He knelt back down and rubbed it gently to clean any dirt from it. He examined the scrape for any objects caught in the skin, then took out an antiseptic wipe from the kit and wiped it carefully, patting it dry with a dry part of the washcloth. She gripped the bed sheet when she saw him take out a cotton ball and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and she hissed in pain when he applied it and she felt the sting.

"Sorry, but this will help you," he told her.

He took out a tube of antibiotic cream and rubbed it on the wound, then cut a small piece of gauze and taped it over her knee.

"We'll have to change the bandage every day until it's healed, and apply a new layer of antibiotic ointment each time so the wound doesn't get infected."

She ran a hand through his hair affectionately. "Thank you."

"Of course."

He looked up at her and smiled, but the anxiety was still evident in his eyes.

"I know what you're thinking," Sherlock told her. "I hate it, too. And it's not just fear...there's doubt, as well."

"Doubt?"

"Yes. I felt doubt when I saw that hound out there. You see, I've always been able to trust the evidence of my own eyes…until now. There's no possible way that I can believe what I saw, so I just need to figure out how."

She put two fingers under his chin. "You will."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

He reached up and kissed her deeply, wrapping an arm around her torso and burying the other hand in her hair. She unbuttoned his jacket and pushed it off of his shoulders, and he brought himself up to lie on top of her on the bed. He reached behind her and undid the bra clasp, pulling the garment from her and tossing it onto the floor. She quickly and clumsily undid the buttons of his shirt and ripped it from him, unsure if she actually ripped it or not but not caring the slightest. He stood up briefly to take off his trousers and boxers, pulling her panties off of her before climbing back on top of her.

He made a move to go down to her chest, but he grunted and moved up to rest his forehead against hers.

"What is it?" she asked, her fingers stroking the back of his head.

"I'm fighting with myself. My instincts want to do this fast, but I want this to be slow."

She smiled and kissed him softly on the lips. "We can do it however we want it to."

He smiled and kissed her once more. They proceeded to make slow, passionate love to one another. They managed to take their time, and Sherlock never lost his control once. He knew that focusing solely on Alexis would help him stay calm, not just with their love making, but with the battle going on deep inside him. Whatever was really going on out in the moor he would figure out tomorrow, but right then, it was only about Alexis. His rock. His love. His heart.


	40. Chapter 39

_**MATURE content!**_

_**Also, I should probably point out that, even though everyone knows it already, I do not own Sherlock or any of its original characters; only **_**my **_**original characters. I know Alexis says a few lines of the existing characters in the stories, but I'm not the only person who does it! **_

_**Forgive me for that little rant, and believe me when I tell you that I was holding back, but I just read a review that made me feel like you know what…**_

* * *

March 21, 2012

Alexis woke up first the next morning and pressed a gentle kiss to Sherlock's forehead before getting up and walking to the bathroom. She pulled back the shower curtain and leaned down to turn on the faucet, checking the water temperature before pulling the lever to turn on the shower.

"Alexis!"

The sound of Sherlock yelling her name nearly made her stumble over as she was stepping into the shower. She steadied herself as he burst into the room, pinning her to the wall and kissing her hard on the mouth. She gripped his forearms in an attempt to stay standing as she caught her breath when he finally pulled away.

"It's drugs. We've been drugged," he told her, smiling wide.

"Drugs? What do you mean?" she asked breathlessly.

"Remember how I told you that I couldn't believe what I saw last night? That I couldn't possibly have seen a gigantic hound out in the Hollow?"

"Yes. You said you doubted yourself."

"Yes, but I may have figured out the reason why I saw what I saw. Why Henry has been seeing this hound. I'll just need to get a sample of his sugar. That should be simple enough." At this point, he was thinking out loud.

Alexis was pleased at his sudden positive realization, but she looked down and realized they were both naked, and he had her pinned to the wall.

"Um, Sherlock?"

"What?"

She gestured down to their bodies, and he swallowed. "Right. Well, there's really no point in us not wearing clothes out here." He looked over at the shower, then back at her and smirked. Her eyes went wide and she forgot how to breathe, and he quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her into the shower with him.

He allowed her to wet her hair before picking her up and pressing her against the back wall of the shower. She wrapped her legs around his waist and they began to kiss hungrily, their tongues lapping desperately at each other's mouths. Sherlock wrapped an arm firmly behind her back and cupped a breast with his hand, licking and sucking at her nipple. He repeated this process on her other breast as she continued to whimper and moan beneath him. He moved back up and kissed her deeply, wrapping his arms around her torso as he buried himself deep inside her. She moaned loudly into his mouth and arched her back at his sudden and intense entry, and he completely disregarded the previous night's methods as he pounded himself into her, making her scream with each thrust. At some points, he feared his feet would give out from underneath him, but he focused all his concentration at the both of them reaching their climaxes. After a few more thrusts, Alexis came screaming into his neck, and he followed soon after. He cradled her close as they both came down from her high, pressing kisses all about her face and forehead. She gave him a small smile and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Wow," she whispered.

Sherlock chuckled deep in his throat. "I know. Forgive me if it was intense, but the sudden realization left me feeling very pleased with myself."

"Yeah, me too."

He smiled and kissed her. "Perhaps we should shower properly now."

"Yeah, good idea."

"Once we're done here, I'm going out to the moors for a while, then over to Henry's. Will you come?"

"Of course."

"Good."

They showered and headed out to the moors. Sherlock took them back to the same place they went two days prior, and Alexis joined him up on the outcrop. She couldn't help but be taken in by how beautiful he looked standing there, looking out over the land as his hair blew in the wind. This caused her to randomly kiss him a few times, which he didn't mind, and he was able to find whatever he was looking for fairly quickly. They went back over to Henry's house, and Sherlock practically burst through the door when Henry opened it.

"Morning!" he greeted, walking into the foyer before going back over and gripping him by the arms. "Oh, how are you feeling?"

"I'm…" Henry began weakly, looking as if he'd just been hit by a bus. "I didn't sleep very well."

He patted him on the arm. "That's a shame. Shall I make you some coffee?" He looked up above the front door. "Oh, look, you've got damp!"

He smiled widely before walking off into the kitchen, leaving Henry and Alexis standing there confused.

"Why is he so…enthusiastic today?" Henry asked her.

She shrugged. "Couldn't tell you."

They walked into the kitchen and found Sherlock unscrewing the sugar container on the counter. Henry approached him slowly.

"Listen," he began. "Last night… Why did you say you hadn't seen anything? I mean, I only saw the Hound for a minute but…"

Sherlock spooned sugar into a mug as he listened to Henry, his facial expressions more extreme than usual. He suddenly dropped the spoon and took a step towards him.

"Hound," he said out of the blue.

"What?"

"Why do you call it a hound? Why a hound?"

"Why? What do you mean?" He was getting even more confused and slightly irritated now.

"It's odd, isn't it? Strange choice of words, archaic. That's why I took the case. 'Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound.' Why say _hound_?"

"I don't know. I-"

"Actually, let's skip the coffee."

He walked out of the room, leaving a very confused Henry behind.

"Er, he's just a bit overwhelmed by this case, Henry," Alexis told him. "Believe me, seeing that hound last night really got to him."

"No, I understand, it's just…this whole thing is so confusing. It's torture, you know?" He took a seat at the counter, leaning his head on his elbow.

Alexis looked at him sadly and walked towards him. "Look, Henry, I understand what you're going through. A bit, anyway. Both of my parents are dead, too."

"Really?" He straightened up. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea."

"Thanks. And, even though Sherlock seems a bit…unstable right now, he's going to do whatever it takes to solve this case. He'll figure out what happened to your dad."

"Thank you, Alexis," he told her sleepily.

"Sure. Anyway, I'd better get after him."

"Right. Good luck."

"Thanks. See you."

She walked out of the house and found Sherlock pacing in the front yard.

"Took you long enough," he told her, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as they walked down the road.

"Just letting him know he's not alone."

He tightened his grip as they continued down the path, stopping them as they approached a cemetery. They saw John sitting on the steps of an old war memorial, writing in his notepad.

"I'll just head back to the pub, okay?" she told Sherlock.

"Of course."

She reached up and kissed him, then made her way back down to the pub. When she got to the parking lot, she noticed a familiar looking car parked next to their jeep. She looked at it for a moment, then shrugged it off before walking into the pub. As she approached the bar, she accidentally bumped into a man standing in the middle of the room.

"I'm sorry, sir, I…"

Her voice trailed off as the man turned around to face her, revealing himself to be Detective Inspector Lestrade.

"Lestrade?" she asked in disbelief.

"Alexis!" he cheerfully greeted. "What a coincidence! What are you doing here? Off on holiday with Sherlock?"

She grinned knowingly at him. "I think we both know why we're here, Inspector. It looks like _you've _been on a holiday, though, but a bit farther south I think."

He sighed. "Right. Should have known you weren't that stupid, being Sherlock Holmes's girlfriend and all."

She smiled. "He won't be pleased to see you, you know."

"Yes, well, his brother sent me down to sort of check up on him. I didn't see the point, but it pays overtime."

She chuckled. "Well, just get ready for the thunder, alright?"

He nodded. "Let me buy you a drink, shall I?"

"Thanks, Lestrade."

He remained standing as they waited for their drinks, and they soon heard two familiar voices out in the parking lot. They turned to find Sherlock and John standing there, Lestrade smiling at them.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Sherlock demanded to know as he walked into the pub.

"Oh, nice to see you, too," Lestrade retorted. "I'm on holiday, would you believe?"

Alexis smiled and shook her head. He would never learn.

"No, I wouldn't," Sherlock told him.

"Hello, John," he greeted him, taking off his sunglasses.

"Greg."

"I heard you were in the area. What are you up to? You after this Hound of Hell, like on the telly?"

Sherlock merely stared at him, his expression showing that he was clearly not amused. "I'm waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?"

"I've told you, I'm on holiday."

"You're brown as a nut. You're clearly just back from your holidays."

"Yeah, Lestrade, I'd just give it up," Alexis commented, sipping her drink.

"Maybe I fancied another one."

"Oh, this is Mycroft, isn't it?" Sherlock realized.

"Now, look…" Lestrade protested, trying to grab on to the very last bits of his pathetic ruse.

"Of course it is. One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to spy on me, incognito. Is that why you're calling yourself Greg?"

They all looked at him strangely.

"That's his name," John pointed out.

"Is it?"

"Yes," Lestrade told him, "if you'd ever bothered to find out. Look, I'm not your handler, and I don't just do what your brother tells me." He clearly felt defeated now.

"Actually, you could be just the man we want," John said.

"Why?" Sherlock asked him.

"Well, I've not been idle, Sherlock. I think I might've found something. Here." He pulled out what looked like a receipt from his pocket, and he showed it to the three of them. "Didn't know if it was relevant, it's starting to look like it might be. That is an awful lot of meat for a vegetarian restaurant."

"Excellent," Sherlock said.

"A nice, scary inspector from Scotland Yard who can put in a few calls might come in very handy." He rang the bell on the counter. "Shop!"

About ten minutes later, Lestrade was sitting across a table in the restaurant area from Gary and Billy, the two owners of the hotel and pub. He was looking through their records, and the two of them had looked nervous from the moment he introduced himself as a Detective Inspector. Sherlock, John, and Alexis stood off to the side, waiting for Lestrade to finish with the records and question them. Sherlock was stood away from the two of them, making a cup of coffee. Alexis thought it was a very random thing for him to be doing now, but she quickly realized that, with him, nothing was random. He walked back over to them and handed the cup to John.

"What's this?" John asked him.

"Coffee. I made coffee."

"You never make coffee."

"I just did, don't you want it?"

"You don't have to keep apologizing."

Sherlock looked away impatiently, but John took the coffee from him.

"Thanks."

Sherlock smiled and watched him as he took a sip.

"Mmm, I don't take sugar-" John started to say this, but he saw Sherlock's disappointed expression. He took a bigger sip, then put the cup back down on the saucer. "That's nice. It's good."

"These records go back nearly two months," Lestrade began, shutting the binder. "Was that when you had the idea? After the T.V. show went out?"

"It's me," Billy told him. "It was me."

They all looked at him questioningly.

"I'm sorry, Gary, I couldn't help it. I had a bacon sandwich at Cal's wedding, and one thing just led to another."

"Nice try," Lestrade said, smirking along with the rest of them.

"Look, we were just trying to give things a bit of a boost, you know?" Gary said. "A great big dog run wild up on the moor, it was heaven sent. It was like us having our own Loch Ness Monster."

"Where do you keep it?" Lestrade asked him.

"There's an old mine shaft. It's not too far. He was alright there."

"Was?" Sherlock asked.

Gary sighed. "We couldn't control the bloody thing! It was vicious. And then, a month ago, Billy took him to the vet and, you know…"

"It's dead?" John asked, walking until he was stood right behind them.

"Put down."

"Yeah," Billy said. "No choice. So it's over."

"It was just a joke, you know?"

"Yeah. Hilarious," Lestrade replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, and you've nearly driven a man out of his mind," Alexis told them bitterly, walking out of the room with Lestrade and John. John put his hand on Alexis's back, silently comforting her as they made their way out the front entrance.

"You know he's actually pleased you're here?" John told Lestrade. "Secretly pleased."

"Is he? That's nice. I suppose he likes having all the same faces back together. Appeals to his…his…"

"Asperger's?" John offered.

Alexis cocked an eyebrow at him, and they all straightened up when Sherlock walked out to them.

"So, you believe them about having the dog destroyed?" Lestrade asked him.

"No reason not to," he said.

"Well, hopefully there's no harm done. Not quite sure what I'd charge them with anyway. I'll have a word with the local force. Right, that's that, then. Catch you later." He started to walk off towards his car, turning back to face them briefly. "I'm enjoying this! It's nice to get London out your lungs!"

Alexis smiled and waved goodbye as he walked away. He was such a character.

"So that was their dog that people saw out on the moor?" John checked.

"Looks like it," Sherlock told him.

"But that wasn't what you saw. That wasn't just an ordinary dog."

"No. It was immense, had burning red eyes and it was glowing, John, its whole body was glowing." He paused a moment, thinking about the night before, then shrugged it off as he walked towards the jeep. "I've got a theory, but I need to get back into Baskerville to test it."

"How? You can't pull off the I.D. trick again."

"Might not have to. Alexis, come with us this time."

"Okay, sure."

Sherlock pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed his brother's speed dial. He put the phone up to his ear and greeted him with a very suspicious tone.

"Hello, brother dear. How are you?"

* * *

On the drive to Baskerville, Sherlock had arranged a plan with Mycroft that continued to allow him to use his identity, and to give him unlimited access to Baskerville. It also gave Alexis a one-time clearance to enter the facility without question. Nevertheless, she was still nervous about going into this place.

They pulled up to the front gate, and a man in uniform with a large gun asked Sherlock to turn the engine off. He complied, and a few more men examined the jeep.

"I need to see Major Barrymore as soon as we get inside," Sherlock told John.

"Right," he said.

"Which means you'll have to start the search for the Hound. Alexis, you'll come with me."

"Okay," they said simultaneously.

"In the labs. Stapleton's first. Could be dangerous."

John smirked at the last statement.

They were cleared to enter, and Sherlock parked the jeep just outside the main building. Each party was escorted to their specific destination shortly after. When they reached Major Barrymore's office, they were met by the Major himself sitting at his desk. He looked at them with a stern expression, and Alexis immediately knew that this guy meant business.

"Oh, you know I'd love to," Major Barrymore replied sarcastically. "I'd love to give you unlimited access to this place. Why not?"

"It's a simple enough request, Major," Sherlock told him impatiently.

"I've never heard of anything so bizarre," he sneered.

"You're to give me twenty four hours. It's what I've negotiated." He hesitated briefly on the last word, being sure to keep up the ruse of being Mycroft Holmes.

"Not a second more. I may have to comply with this order, but I don't have to like it." He spun his chair around to face his computer. "I don't know what the hell you expect to find here, anyway."

"Perhaps the truth," Sherlock told him.

Major Barrymore spun his chair back around and looked him up and down. "About what? Oh, I see. The big coat should have told me. You're one of the conspiracy lot, aren't you?"

Sherlock glanced down at his coat briefly and rolled his eyes.

"Well, then, go ahead. Seek them out. The monsters, the death rays, the aliens."

"Have you got any of those?"

The major shot him a look.

"Oh, just wondering."

"And what of you, Miss?" Major Barrymore looked over at Alexis. "What, are you just some tourist come here to have a look around? How did you slip through the system and get clearance into this place?"

"Major, let's just say that I'm a girl who's quiet and can keep a secret." She nodded at him.

He looked back over at Sherlock. "A couple. Crash-landed here in the '60s. We call them Abbott and Costello."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and the Major sat back in his chair. "Good luck, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock turned and walked out of the room, but Alexis lingered for a moment. The whole time, she'd been observing the office closely, and she was pleased with what she saw.

"Thatcher and Churchill, huh?" she asked the major.

He raised his eyebrows. "Yes, and?"

She smiled. "Nothing, just…I can respect that."

His gaze softened, and he nodded at her respectfully. He turned his chair back around, and she followed Sherlock into an observation room.


	41. Chapter 40

_**I've decided that I'm going to upload TWO chapters again today! Stay tuned for the next one in about…7 ½ hours! You can do the math.**_

_**Sherlockreader: I see you're still reading the story! You're about halfway there too! I'm glad you're enjoying it, and yes, I had to include that beautiful purple shirt.**_

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_**Black-rose Marley: I'm glad! And you can expect daily updates for a while, as I've written ahead at least 3 chapters! I'm on a roll!**_

_**Milify-star: Thank you : ) And I feel the need to point this out; I know that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and that particular review wasn't even all bad, but the thing is, I'm not finished with the story yet, much more is yet to come and people will develop more and I will address things I haven't gotten the chance to yet. Lol I put this all into my response to you, but thank you for the support.**_

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* * *

"Are you alright? John?"

Sherlock had just opened the cage doors and rescued John from the lab, Alexis watching. For the past ten minutes or so, John had been locked in the lab, the lights had gone out, and something, though nobody was one hundred percent sure what, had tried to attack him.

"Jesus Christ, it was the Hound!" John shot up from the ground and pushed past Sherlock to get back out in the open. "Sherlock, it was here! I swear it, Sherlock. It must… Did you- Did you see it?! You must have!"

"It's alright," Sherlock told him calmly. "It's okay now."

"No it's not! It's not okay! I saw it! I was wrong!"

Sherlock smirked. "Hmm, well, let's not jump to conclusions."

"What?"

"What did you see?"

"I told you, I saw the Hound."

"Huge? Red eyes?"

"Yes!"

"Glowing?"

"Yeah."

"No."

"What?" John was thoroughly confused as well as scared out of his mind now.

"I made up the bit about glowing. You saw what you expected to see because I told you. You have been drugged. We have all been drugged."

"Drugged?" He looked over at Alexis, and she nodded.

"Can you walk?" Sherlock asked him.

"Of course I can walk."

"Come on, then. It's time to lay this ghost."

Sherlock started to walk off, and Alexis walked up to John and put an arm around his shoulder, rubbing his arm.

"You going to alright?" she asked gently.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine."

She kissed him on the cheek, and they went off to find Dr. Stapleton.

They quickly came to a room filled with cages, and they found her examining a white rabbit. She looked up at them when they entered the room.

"Oh, back again? What's on your mind this time?" she asked, her expression showing she was not happy to see them.

"Murder, Dr. Stapleton," Sherlock told her. "Refined, cold-blooded murder."

He turned around and switched off the lights in the room, revealing the rabbit in front of her to be glowing green. Alexis's eyes widened and her mouth went agape.

He flipped the lights back on and asked proudly, "Will you tell little Kirsty what happened to Bluebell, or shall I?"

Dr. Stapleton looked down at the rabbit, defeated. "Okay. What do you want?"

"Can I borrow your microscope?"

They went out to another large lab area, and Sherlock immediately got to work on examining a sample of sugar taken from Henry's house. Alexis, John, and Dr. Stapleton were off to the side, the two women watching Sherlock as John merely sat there, still in shock from his encounter.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Dr. Stapleton checked with John. "You look very peaky."

"No, I'm alright."

There was a brief pause before she spoke again. "It was the GFP gene from a jellyfish, in case you're interested."

"What?" he asked.

"In the rabbits."

"Hmm. Great news."

"_Aequorea victoria, _if you really want to know."

"Why?" he asked her.

"Why not? We don't ask questions like that here. It isn't done."

"Well, I've got one. Just one," Alexis told her. "Does it hurt them?"

"Oh, not at all. Any sort of genetic mutations are done under anesthetics."

"Well, that's good, then."

"It was a mix up, anyway," she continued. "My daughter ended up with one of the lab specimens, so poor Bluebell had to go."

"Your compassion's overwhelming," John commented sarcastically.

"I know. I hate myself sometimes."

The two of them could detect the sadness in her voice, and John felt a bit guilty.

"So, come on then, you can trust me. I'm a doctor," John said. "What else have you got hidden away up here?"

Dr. Stapleton sighed. "Listen, if you can imagine it, someone is probably doing it somewhere. Of course they are."

"That's a frightening concept for someone with a big imagination," Alexis said.

She smiled slightly.

"Cloning?" John asked.

"Yes, of course!" she said as if it were nothing. "Dolly the sheep, remember?"

"Human cloning?"

"Why not?"

"And what about animals? Not sheep. Big animals."

"Size isn't a problem. Not at all. The only limits are ethics and the law, and both of those things can be very flexible. But not here, not at Baskerville."

All of a sudden, Sherlock groaned in frustration and threw the Petri dish he was examining against the wall, making everyone jump.

"It's not there!" he shouted.

"Jesus!" John yelled out of irritation.

"There's nothing there!" Sherlock continued. "It doesn't make any sense."

"What were you expecting to find?" Dr. Stapleton asked cautiously.

"A drug, of course! It has to be a drug." He was pacing back and forth now. "A hallucinogenic or a deliriant of some kind. There's no trace of anything in the sugar."

"Sugar?" John asked him.

"The sugar, yes. It's a simple process of elimination. I saw the Hound, saw it as my imagination expected me to see it. A genetically engineered monster. But I knew I couldn't believe the evidence of my own eyes, so there were seven possible reasons for it, the most possible being narcotics. Henry Knight, he saw it, too. But you didn't John. You didn't see it. Nor did you, Alexis. Now we have eaten and drunk exactly the same things since we got to Grimpen, apart from one thing! You don't take sugar in your coffee, John, and Alexis, you didn't have coffee when we went to Henry's house."

"I see. So…" John said.

"I took it from Henry's kitchen. His sugar. It's perfectly alright."

"But maybe it's not a drug."

"No, it has to be a drug!" He sat in the chair in front of the microscope and shut his eyes, trying to think. "How did it get into our systems? How? There must be something. Something… Something… Something buried deep." He turned to three of them and gestured towards the door. "Get out."

"What?" Dr. Stapleton asked.

"Get out. I need to go to my mind palace."

John and Alexis rolled their eyes.

"Your what?"

Sherlock looked straight ahead of him and stilled, shutting his eyes.

"He's not going to be doing much talking for a while, we may as well go," John said, all of them getting up and walking out of the lab.

"His what?" she asked again, clearly intrigued.

"Oh, his mind palace. It's a memory technique. A sort of mental map. You plot a map with a location. It doesn't have to be a real place. And then you deposit memories there. Theoretically, you can never forget anything. All you have to do is find your way back to it."

"So this imaginary location could be anything, a house or a street?"

"Yeah."

"But he said palace. He said it was a palace."

Alexis giggled. "Yes, he would, wouldn't he?"

They left the room and walked off to an area not too far, only thinking to wait for Sherlock while he searched for whatever he was looking for in his mind. Luckily, it took him less than five minutes, and he walked into the room rather enthusiastically.

"Dr. Stapleton, I need to get into Major Barrymore's office. Can you do that for us?"

"Yes, right this way."

They walked back into the area of the facility where Major Barrymore's office was, first making sure no one was there. Sherlock had John be the lookout while Dr. Stapleton logged into one of the computers.

"Project H.O.U.N.D.," Sherlock told them, leaning over Stapleton's shoulder. "I must have read about it. Stored it away. Experiment in the C.I.A. facility in Liberty, Indiana."

"Liberty, Indiana?" Alexis asked. Suddenly, her eyes went wide with realization. "'Liberty' and 'In'. Those were the words that Henry kept seeing in his dreams! They're not words, though, it's a location!"

"Yes, it is," Sherlock told her, smiling.

"My God," John commented.

Dr. Stapleton pulled up a page to have her enter a search string.

"H.O.U.N.D.," Sherlock instructed.

She typed in the letters, and a screen that said "NO ACCESS. CIA Classified" came up.

"That's as far as my access goes, I'm afraid," she said.

"There must be an override code. A password," John pointed out.

"I imagine so, but that'd be Major Barrymore's."

Sherlock immediately walked over to his office, turning on the light and sitting in his chair, Stapleton and Alexis following close behind.

"He'd have sat here when he thought it up," Sherlock mused, observing the office carefully. "Describe him to me."

"You've seen him," Stapleton replied.

"But describe him."

"Er, he's a bloody martinet. A throwback. The sort they'd have sent into Suez."

"Good. Excellent. Old fashioned. A traditionalist. Not the sort of man that uses children's names as a password." He gestured to children's artwork on one of the walls. "He loves his job. Proud of it, and this is work related. So, what's at eye level? Books. _Jane's Defense Weekly. _Bound copies. _Hannibal. _Wellington. Rommel. Churchill's _History of the English-Speaking Peoples, _all four volumes." He stood up and pointed to a bust of Churchill on a higher shelf. "Churchill. Well, he's fond of Churchill. Copy of _The Downing Street Years, _one, two, three, four, five separate biographies of Thatcher; just as you pointed out earlier, Alexis." He looked down at a picture of what was presumably Major Barrymore and his father back in the '80s. His father was in uniform. "Mid 1980s, at a guess. Father and son. Barrymore senior? Medals. Distinguished service order?"

John had walked over to the doorway. "That date, I'd say Falkland's veteran."

"Right, so Thatcher's looking more likely a bet than Churchill." He walked out of the office and back over to the computer.

"So that's the password?" Stapleton checked.

"No! With a man like Major Barrymore, only first name terms would do."

He started to type "Margaret" into the computer, but stopped and retyped it as "Maggie." He hit Enter, and a gratified smile appeared on his face when it accepted the password. Everyone gathered around him as he searched through countless files until he found Project H.O.U.N.D. The name, they soon realized, was an acronym formed by the names of the five principal scientists; Leonard Hansen, Jack O'Mara, Mary Uslowski, Rick Nader, Elaine Dyson.

"H.O.U.N.D.," Stapleton said, the realization hitting her.

However, their joy was soon eradicated as they scanned through the file. It went on to describe that it was a drug dispersed as an aerosol gas, developed as an anti-personnel weapon for war. They had numerous test subjects, all of which had horrible side effects. Fear and stimulus, extreme suggestibility, conditioned terror, paranoia, severe frontal lobe damage, blood brain, and even multiple homicide. It made everyone feel just awful.

"Jesus," John managed to say.

"Project H.O.U.N.D. A new deliriant drug which rendered its users incredibly suggestible," Sherlock told them. "They wanted to use it as an anti-personnel weapon to totally disorientate the enemy using fear and stimulus. But they shut it down and hid it away in 1986."

"Because of what it did to the subjects they tested it on," Stapleton said.

"And what they did to others. Prolonged exposure drove them insane. Made them almost uncontrollably aggressive."

"So, someone's been doing it again?" Alexis asked. "Carrying on the experiments?"

"Attempting to refine it, perhaps. For the last twenty years."

"Who?" Stapleton asked.

"Those names mean anything to you?" John asked her.

"No, not a thing."

Sherlock scanned through the photo of the scientists, looking at the many other minor scientists standing in the background. "Five principal scientists, twenty years ago. Maybe our friend's somewhere in the back of the picture. Somebody who was old enough to be there at the time of the experiments in 1986."

He stopped suddenly when he found who he was looking for.

"Maybe somebody who says _cell _phone, from his time spent in America. You remember, John?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Gave us his number in case we needed him."

"Oh my God, Bob Frankland," Stapleton breathed.

"Wait, who?" Alexis asked.

"Bob Frankland," John told her. "We met him here the other day. He was a friend of Henry's father. Well, I say friend."

"But Bob doesn't even work on it. I mean, he's a virologist," Stapleton pointed out. "This was chemical warfare."

"That's where he started, though," Sherlock said. "And he's never lost the certainty, the obsession that that drug really could work."

"Wait, so, this guy? He's the one who's been doing this? Setting out this drug?" Alexis checked.

"Must be, although he's done much more than set out gas in the Hollow."

She furrowed her eyebrows, but then her heart sank when she finally put it together. "No, you don't mean-?"

"Yes. Bob Frankland murdered Henry's father that night. Not a hound. It was nice of him to give us his number, though. Let's arrange a little meeting."

Just then, John's phone rang in his pocket. He didn't appear to recognize the number, but he answered it anyway.

"Hello?...Who's this?..." The person on the other end finally spoke, and he told them, "It's Louise Mortimer. Louis, what's wrong?...What?...Where are you?...Right, stay there. We'll get someone to you. Okay?"

"Henry?" Sherlock asked.

"He's attacked her."

"Gone? There's only one place he'll go to, back to where it all started." He took out his phone and dialed a number. "Lestrade, get to the Hollow. Dewer's Hollow, now! And bring a gun." He hung up the phone. "Alexis, we're going to drop you back off at the hotel. Get to Henry's house and make sure Dr. Mortimer is alright."

"Sherlock, no, I have to go with you," she protested.

"No, Alexis! It's too dangerous." He stepped closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "This isn't just about a hound anymore. It's about life and death."

"Alright, I'll go. But you two be careful."

"We will. Let's go, John."


	42. Chapter 41

_**Random: If you're interested in seeing what Alexis's mother looks like, look up actress Rachel Weisz as she looked in her early thirties; but picture her with deep blue eyes. **_

_**Black-rose Marley: Not weird, I know exactly where you're coming from. I end up putting on the subtitles for half the episodes to figure out what Sherlock says! I have the episodes on like this as I write!**_

* * *

They dropped Alexis off in front of the hotel and sped off to the Hollow. Despite not having a flashlight, she ran full speed out of the parking lot and down the short path to Henry's house. She tried peeking through the windows to see if she could spot Louise, but she was nowhere to be seen. She approached the front door and knocked loudly.

"Louise? Louise Mortimer?" she called, backing up slightly.

A moment later, she heard footsteps coming towards the door.

"Who is it?" Louise asked cautiously.

"My name is Alexis Gilmore, a friend of John Watson's. He sent me to make sure you're alright."

She quickly opened the door. "Please, come in."

She walked in, and Louise led her to the living room.

"I appreciate you coming, but I'm okay. A bit shaken up, though."

"I completely understand, and John and Sherlock are going to help Henry right now."

"Sherlock?" she asked as they sat on the couch.

"Oh, right, you didn't meet him. He's the detective Henry consulted about the footprints he saw in the Hollow. John is his colleague, and I'm his girlfriend."

"And do you really think he can help Henry? He does have a gun, you know."

"Don't worry, Louise. Sherlock has already figured everything out, and he's going to get through to Henry."

"It's just that Henry is completely manic. Manic depressive, even. He could do anything. He might even shoot himself if they're not careful."

Alexis cringed at the thought. "Let me just explain everything to you, okay?"

She went on to tell her everything from the time Henry walked into 221B all the way up to being at Baskerville that day. Louise was amazed, and more things began to make sense to her in terms of Henry.

"So, Bob Frankland is the one who murdered Henry's father?" Louise checked.

Alexis walked back over from the kitchen and handed her a cup of tea. "Yes. It's sickening, I know."

"Henry's told me a lot about him. He calls him 'Uncle Bob'."

"Well, he probably won't be doing that anymore."

She nodded. "It does make sense now, though. Frankland filling the Hollow with this gas every time Henry goes out there. Making Henry so close to him, thinking of him as family." She shook her head. "What a monster."

Alexis bit her lip. "You know, I can actually relate to Henry quite a bit."

Louise set her cup down. "You can? How so?"

"Well, I did tell him this this morning…my parents are dead, as well."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Can I ask how?"

She took a deep breath, preparing herself to explain her sad story to yet another person.

"My mother died when I was four, an aneurism, and my father died in a car crash when I was twenty."

"Goodness, that's terrible."

She nodded. "Yeah, and I do have a sister, but we haven't spoken in years. Underlying issues. So, I know how it feels to be without parents. Without anybody, really. I mean, I have Sherlock now, but there was a time in my life where things were…well, they pretty dark for me. It was probably the period of a few years between the death of my grandmother and when I first met Sherlock."

"And now how do you feel?" Louise's tone suggested that she was going into therapist mode.

"Now? Now I feel great. I feel like my life is actually worth living. With Sherlock, I have someone who I love and who loves me. He knows everything about me, and I completely trust him with it. It's something I hope Henry can find someday. He just needs to get past the deception first."

Louise went to respond, but Alexis's cell phone rang. She pulled it out and made a sharp intake of breath.

"It's Sherlock," Alexis told her, answering the phone. "Sherlock?"

"_Henry's fine. We're coming back to his house now._"

"Oh, thank God." She looked to Louise. "He's okay."

Louise exhaled and put her hand on her chest.

_"Henry remembered everything that happened that night, and he was able to accept it."_

"Good. And what about Frankland?"

There was a brief pause. "_Frankland's dead. He ran out into the minefield, and he blew himself up."_

She sighed. "Jesus. What a coward."

_"I'll explain everything when we get there. Is Louise alright?"_

"Yeah, she's fine. How about you and John?"

"_Yes. Alexis, I love you."_

She smiled. "I love you, too. We'll see you when you get here, okay?"

_"Right. Bye."_

She hung up the phone and looked at Louise. "Frankland's dead."

"So I gathered."

They sat in silence for a moment, then Louise spoke again.

"Alexis, there's something I feel I should tell you. It's something that Henry said earlier today, before he…"

"What is it?"

"I can't tell you exactly what he said, doctor/patient confidentiality, but I will tell you that he thought you seemed…sad."

"Sad?"

"Yes, he said he could see it in your eyes. Not just today, but other times as well." She rolled her eyes. "Dear god, I've said too much already."

"No, it's okay, you don't have to say anymore. He thinks I'm sad?"

"I suppose he does, but it could mean anything. I mean, look at the state he's been in."

"Right." She stared off ahead of her, lost in thought.

"Alexis?"

She whipped her head back around to face her.

"Are you sad?"

Alexis looked at her with wide eyes. "Maybe."

Just then, they both heard the sound of the front door opening. The two women stood up, and Sherlock, John, and Henry walked into the living room. Alexis ran over to Sherlock and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his torso. John nodded at her, and Henry slowly walked over to Louise. The two men watched him like a hawk.

"Louise, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am," he told her weakly. "I-I wasn't myself. I never would have done such a thing if-"

"Henry, it's alright," she told him gently. "I'm just glad you're alright. Perhaps now that you've figured things out, we can work through this properly?"

"You would still be willing to do that?"

"Yes, Henry, I would."

Henry smiled at her gratefully, then turned to the others. "I don't know how to thank you."

"No need," Sherlock told him.

"We're just glad you're alright, mate," John added.

"Thank you," he told them.

"Well, we'll just pop off, then," Sherlock announced, wrapping an arm around Alexis's shoulders. "Thank you," he whispered to her.

Louise stayed with Henry while the three of them went back to the hotel. On the way, they explained to Alexis what happened that night, and how the hound turned out to be a regular dog. When they arrived, John went straight to bed, and Sherlock and Alexis were ready to turn in when Sherlock walked over to her at the dresser.

"Thank you for staying with her," he said, pressing a kiss to her hair. "It wasn't dangerous as it could have been, but it's still best that you weren't there."

"It's no problem. She turned out okay anyway."

She looked down at the dresser and zipped her makeup bag shut, and Sherlock pulled away to look at her as he did so. An alarm went off in his head as he noted her posture.

"There's something else," he suddenly said.

She looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean there's something you're thinking about. Something you haven't thought about in a while, and you're not sure how you feel about it."

"I'm fine, Sherlock." She made a move to walk over to the bed, but he gripped her arm before she could get around him.

"What's wrong, Alexis? You know you can't lie to me, and whatever it is, I want to know."

She sighed, and she pulled him over to sit on the bed with him.

"I talked with Louise while you were in the Hollow. We didn't get into really in-depth conversations. Well, apart from me randomly telling her about my past. But at the very end, after she told me something Henry said to her, she asked me a question that really got me thinking."

"What did she ask you?"

"You haven't figured it out?"

"I have an idea, but I'm not a mind reader, Alexis. I also think you should be the one to say it."

"Right. She asked me if I was sad."

He straightened up, and his concern for her rose. "Are you sad, Alexis?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

She stood up from the bed and walked over to the window. "I don't know why I would be. I mean, since you came along, everything has been good. I've been so happy. And while I know the pain of losing my parents will always be there, it gets easier over time. I've learned to accept it, you know?"

"I know you have. But there are other factors, other people you think about."

"You mean my sister?"

"She's one of them, yes."

She walked back over to him and straddled his legs. He wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her steady and close.

"I do wish things were different between us," she told him quietly. "I mean, maybe things weren't always quite right with us, but there were times when they really weren't that bad. Like when we were kids, even the early teen years were okay. She was my sister, Sherlock. It's not like I can act like she never existed." She bit her lip and rested a hand on the back of his neck. "And then there's…him."

It took him a moment to figure out what she meant by "him", but the haunted look in her eye was all the answer he needed.

"Moriarty."

The sound of his name sent a chill up her spine, just as it always did. "Sherlock, I know it's been months, but the threat is always there. He told us we'd be hearing from him…but when? When is that monster going to come back?"

He pressed his forehead against hers. "I don't know. But when he does, I promise that I will keep you away from him. No matter what it takes, you will be safe. I won't let him hurt you again."

She smiled tearfully, taking his face in her hands and kissing him deeply.

* * *

March 22, 2012

Sherlock, John, and Alexis were set to leave the next morning. John and Alexis were sat outside eating breakfast, Sherlock having gone into the restaurant to make them all tea. He approached the table just as Billy brought out their meals, standing next to John.

"So they didn't have it put down, then?" Sherlock checked, putting down their mugs. "The dog."

"Obviously," John told him. "Suppose they just couldn't bring themselves to do it."

"I see."

John and Alexis smiled.

"No, you don't," John said.

He shook his head. "No, I don't. Sentiment?"

"Sentiment."

He nodded and took a seat next to John.

"Mmm, listen, what happened to me in the lab?"

Sherlock turned around to grab a basket with sauces, Alexis noting his very subtle panicked expression. "Do you want some sauce with that?"

"I hadn't been to the Hollows. How come I heard those things in there? Fear and stimulus, you said."

"You must have been dosed with it elsewhere. When you went to the lab, maybe. You saw those pipes. Pretty ancient, leaky as a sieve. And they were carrying the gas, so…" He dug through the basket and pulled out two packets. "Um, ketchup, was it, or brown?"

"Hang on. You thought it was in the sugar. You were convinced it was in the sugar."

Sherlock's expression was priceless. "Better get going, actually. There's a train that leaves in half an hour, so if you want…"

John then realized what really had happened. "Oh, God. It was you. You locked me in that bloody lab."

"I had to. It was an experiment."

"An experiment?!"

Sherlock tried to shush him, glancing around at the other patrons.

"I was terrified, Sherlock! I was scared to death!"

"I thought the drug was in the sugar, so I put the sugar in your coffee," he whispered. "Then I arranged everything with Major Barrymore. It was all totally scientific, laboratory conditions. Well, literally."

John rolled his eyes, then looked over at Alexis. "Wait, Alexis, you went with him, right?"

Her eyes widened a bit. "Yeah."

"Then if you were with him… What, so you knew, too?"

"I, er… Their toast is delicious, John! You really have to try this." She stuffed half the piece of bread into her mouth and looked down at her plate, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Anyway, I knew what effect it had on a superior mind, so I needed to try it on an average one," Sherlock continued.

John shot him a pointed look.

"You know what I mean."

"But it wasn't in the sugar," John pointed out.

"No, well, I wasn't to know you'd already been exposed to the gas."

"So you got it wrong."

"No."

"You were wrong. It wasn't in the sugar, you got it wrong."

"A bit. Won't happen again," he finally admitted, taking a sip of his tea.

Alexis finally managed to swallow the toast and she looked at John. "But, you know, no one's perfect, John. And he did figure out what it really was not too long after."

John smirked, and Sherlock smiled at her gratefully.

"Any long-term effects?" John asked him.

"None at all. You'll be fine once you've excreted it. We all will."

"I think I might have taken care of that already."

Sherlock smiled and chuckled lightly. Alexis muttered "Good lord" under her breath, but giggled along with them. Sherlock looked over and saw Gary pouring coffee for another patron, and he gave him a small, polite smile before going back into the restaurant. He rose from the table.

"Where are you going?" John asked.

"Won't be a minute. Got to see a man about a dog." He smiled and walked off.

The two of them finished their breakfasts, and after Billy came out to collect the dishes, John's cell phone rang again.

"It's Henry," he told her, putting the phone to his ear. "Henry? What can I do for you? ... Right, sure, one minute." He handed her the phone across the table. "He wants to talk to you."

"Me?"

"Apparently."

She took the phone and stood up from the table. "I'll be right back."

She walked over towards the parking lot and held the phone to her ear. "Henry? It's Alexis."

"_Hi. How are you doing?_"

"I think I should be asking you that."

He chuckled. _"No, I'm fine. Better than last night. I know that it's going to take a while, but it's going to get better for me."_

She smiled. "I'm glad, Henry."

"_Thanks. And Alexis?_"

"Yes?"

"_I know that Louise mentioned something I told her yesterday, about you seeming sad."_

"She was vague, trust me. She takes her job very seriously, and that's all she told me."

"_I know, and it's okay. Alexis, I just hope that you're happy, and if you aren't, that you can get there one day. Soon, I would hope."_

"Henry, that's…that's sweet. You're right, though, I'm not completely there. I've got a few things to figure out, but, in the meantime, having Sherlock keeps me going. Thank you."

_"No, thank you. And tell Sherlock and John I said thank you, as well."_

"I will."

_"Take care, Alexis."_

"You too, Henry."

_"Bye, now."_

"Bye."

She hung up the phone and held it to her chest for a moment. If only she'd gotten a chance to get to know Henry better; then again, they really already knew everything they needed to know about each other.

Alexis walked back over to the table, and Sherlock had returned to his seat next to John. She glanced over at the entrance to the restaurant, and she frowned when she saw Gary and Billy hugging each other, Billy looking as if he were crying.

"They didn't take it very well, huh?" she asked them.

Sherlock glanced back at them uncomfortably. "Gary took it better than Billy did. The train leaves in twenty minutes, so we should get going now."

He got up from the table and walked out to the parking lot, not looking at the two men as he went. Alexis and John smiled sadly at each other, knowing that Sherlock wasn't comfortable with situations such as this. However, that was who he was, and they wouldn't have him any other way.


	43. Chapter 42

_**Okay everyone, now we're going to be getting into 'The Reichenbach Fall'! I'll be honest, I'm going to give it my all, but I dread writing it because I get so sad from it! **_

_**Black-rose Marley: Ah, interesting idea. You never know ;)**_

* * *

March 23, 2012

After the three of them returned from Baskerville, it seemed that Sherlock became swamped with major cases. It all started the day after they got back to London. The three of them were sat in the living room, each doing their own thing, when Alexis received a phone call from work.

"Hello?" she greeted, putting her sketchbook off to the side.

_"Alexis, it's Dr. McPhee. I'm sorry to be calling you on your day off, but something's come up that I was hoping you could assist me with."_

"Oh, no, it's not a problem. What can I help you with?"

_"Well, as you know, on Monday we were sent that new painting, _The Falls of the Reichenbach."

"Yes, I remember you telling me to expect it."

"_Yes, but there's a problem. Last night, the Gallery was broken into, and the painting was stolen."_

"Wait, what?" She stood up from her chair, drawing the attention of Sherlock and John. "How could this happen? Our security system is top of the line!"

Sherlock snorted as he stared at his laptop, and Alexis shot him a glare.

"_Whoever it was, they took every possible precaution. All of our security cameras were shut down, and every one of our guards was either knocked unconscious or missing. And the oddest part about this…that painting was the only one stolen."_

"Are you serious?"

_"Completely. Not even a scratch on the others."_

"My god. So, I'm guessing that, when you asked if I could assist you on this, you meant…"

_"I won't beat around the bush, Alexis. If you could tell Sherlock what's happened and ask him to take this case, it would be much appreciated by myself and the entire Gallery."_

"Of course, Dr. McPhee. Can you give me just one second, please?"

"_Certainly."_

She covered the bottom of the phone with her hand and walked over to Sherlock. "Sherlock, I-"

"I'll take the case," he told her, still not looking up from his laptop.

"But I didn't even-"

"There's no need to tell me what's happened, I already know."

"How… Nevermind. Thank you, though."

"Tell Dr. McPhee that we'll meet with him at four o'clock this afternoon at the Gallery."

She quickly kissed him on the cheek and told Dr. McPhee that Sherlock would take the case.

* * *

March 26, 2012

It took Sherlock less than three days to find the painting. It turned out that it had been stolen by professional art thieves, active mostly in regions such as Norway and Sweden, and _The Falls of the Reichenbach _was their latest target. They almost got away with it, too, had one of the members not slipped up and used his credit card at a local deli. From this information, Sherlock was able to trace them all the way to Heathrow airport, where they had a small, private jet waiting to take them back to their primary base in the heart of Norway. Dr. McPhee was so happy when the painting was returned unharmed that he hugged Alexis, unable to contain his excitement.

That Monday, Dr. McPhee held a conference at the Gallery to congratulate and thank Sherlock for his hard work. He, John, and Alexis were stood next to the painting as Dr. McPhee praised them in front of the cameras.

"_Falls of the Reichenbach,_" he announced dramatically. "Turner's masterpiece, thankfully recovered owing to the prodigious talent of Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

The entire room, which was filled with many of Alexis's colleagues, all clapped for them. Sherlock stood there, stiff as a rod, while John and Alexis smiled politely. Alexis's only fears were that she would do something to insult Dr. McPhee. He was a gracious man, but he was also her boss, and it was not a good day at the Gallery when he was angry.

He walked up to Sherlock and handed him a small, red box. "A small token of our gratitude."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at it. "Diamond cufflinks. All my cuffs have buttons."

Alexis gasped and hit his arm. Hard.

"He means 'thank you'," John quickly told him.

"Do I?" Sherlock asked him.

"Yes! Of course he does!" Alexis chimed in. "He just _loves _to joke around. Don't you, darling?" She said the last sentence through gritted teeth, and her eyes pleaded with him to be polite.

He took the box and gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

John tugged his arm as a photographer approached them, and he snapped a few pictures of them. Dr. McPhee then motioned for Alexis to follow him away from the commotion.

"Yes, sir?" she asked, almost completely convinced he was going to scold her for her taste in boyfriends.

"Alexis, given the worth of this painting, I felt that monetary compensation would be an appropriate reward for the recovery of it. Considering you're so close with Sherlock, I was hoping that it would be possible to give it to you in the form of a raise."

He pulled out a check from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. She took it and, when she looked at it, she thought she would faint.

"Oh!" was all she could say, and she said it quite loudly. The check was made out in her name, from the National Portrait Gallery, in the amount of £20,000.

"Dr. McPhee, I- this- this is so…generous! Thank you!"

"You're very welcome, Alexis. Take it as a token of gratitude, not just for Sherlock solving this case, but for all of your hard work for the past five years at the Gallery."

She shook his hand. "Thank you very much, sir."

She dashed over to show Sherlock and John the money. John looked as if he'd fallen love with the check itself, while Sherlock, being Sherlock, didn't appear to care at all.

That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Sherlock finally decided to turn in around ten and was walking down the hall when he stopped dead in his tracks. A familiar scent filled the air, a perfume that he smelled once before. The scent got stronger as he got closer to his room, and when he finally opened the door, he was taken aback by what he saw.

"There you are. I thought you were going to make me wait all night."

Alexis was sat on the edge of the bed, wearing only a black teddy. She pushed herself up and walked slowly over to him, secretly gratified by the way he stiffened up.

"You know, at first, I was a little annoyed when you made that comment about the cufflinks, but…" She pressed her body against his and rested a hand on his chest. "…I really liked getting that raise, Sherlock."

She felt his erection through the fabric of his pants, and she smiled.

"Yes, well…" He tried to speak, but he was too aroused to form a proper sentence.

"My hero," she whispered, reaching up on her tiptoes until her lips were inches from his. "My Reichenbach hero."

* * *

March 29, 2012

Three days later, the three of them were stood outside the home of a prominent London banker, who Sherlock had just found after he'd been kidnapped and nearly killed.

"Back together with my family," he began, wrapping his arms around his wife and his son as he spoke to the reporters, "after my terrifying ordeal. And we have one person to thank for my deliverance, Sherlock Holmes."

They all clapped for him as the banker's son handed Sherlock a small blue box. He took it and leaned casually over to John and Alexis.

"Tie pin. I don't wear ties," he told them quietly.

"Shh," John instructed.

* * *

April 3, 2012

"Peter Ricoletti," Lestrade announced to the press in Scotland Yard. "Number one on Interpol's most wanted list since 1982. But we got him. And there's one person we have to thank for giving us the decisive leads, with all his customary diplomacy and tact."

Alexis stifled a giggle as the three of them stood near him.

"Sarcasm," John pointed out.

"Yes," Sherlock agreed.

The entire room clapped for him as Lestrade walked over and handed him a wrapped present. "We all chipped in," he told him.

Everyone watched eagerly as he tore the wrapping paper open. He pulled the object out and it was revealed to be a deerstalker.

"Oh, dear god," Alexis muttered under her breath.

"Oh," Sherlock said in fake delight as everyone in the room laughed.

Numerous people then shouted for him to put the hat on, and he just stood there staring at them.

"Yeah, Sherlock. Put it on," Lestrade encouraged, his face eager.

"Just get it over with," John whispered through tight lips.

Despite himself, he sucked it up and put the hat on his head, and every photographer in the room proceeded to snap numerous pictures of him. John and Alexis merely looked at each other, knowing he would be ranting about this as soon as they got home.

* * *

"'Boffin'? Boffin Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock had changed into a robe, and the three of them were sat in the living room looking through the newspapers. John and Alexis did their best to wade out Sherlock's annoyances as he paced back and forth, obsessing over the ridiculous hat.

"Everybody gets one," John told him, opening up a new paper.

"One what?"

"Tabloid nickname. SuBo, Nasty Nick. Shouldn't worry, I'll probably get one soon."

"Page five, column six, first sentence."

John opened up to the page, and his eyes went wide with fury.

"Why is it always the hat photograph?" Sherlock asked, punching the hat lightly.

"'Bachelor John Watson.'"

"What kind of hat is it, anyway?"

"Bachelor? What the hell are they implying?"

"Is it a cap? Why's it got two fronts?"

"It's a deerstalker. '…frequently seen in the company of bachelor John Watson.'"

"How do you stalk a deer with a hat? What am I going to do, throw it?"

"'_Confirmed _bachelor John Watson.'"

"Is it like some sort of death Frisbee?"

"Okay, this is too much. We need to be more careful."

"It's got flaps. Ear flaps, it's an ear hat, John."

He tossed the hat over to John, and Alexis was relieved when they finally stopped talking.

"I don't have some crappy nickname, do I?" she asked John.

"No, doesn't look like it yet, but you've only just begun to show up in the tabloids, so I'm sure you'll get one soon."

"Ugh, work will love that."

"What do you mean, more careful?" Sherlock asked John.

"I mean, this-" He held the hat out in front of him. "- isn't a deerstalker now. It's a Sherlock Holmes hat. I mean that you're not exactly a private detective anymore. You're this far from famous."

"Oh, it'll pass," he said, slumping down into his chair.

"It better pass. The press will turn, Sherlock. They always turn. And they'll turn on you."

Sherlock turned to face him. "It really bothers you."

"What?"

"What people say."

"Yes."

"About me. I don't understand. Why would it upset you?"

He looked down at the paper briefly. "Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the news."

"Yeah, Sherlock, I have to agree with John. It's not a good idea to get mixed up in the media, even if you don't mean to. And just the thought of some slimy journalist writing some hateful, disrespectful article about you makes me just-" She held up her hands and discontinued her sentence.

"There's no need to get yourself angry for nothing, Alexis," he told her.

"Yes…but you're not nothing, Sherlock."

He smiled at her as she got up and walked into the kitchen.

* * *

April 4, 2012

It was 11:00 a.m., and Alexis was about two hours into her shift. She was in one of the back rooms assisting in the restoration in a painting they were just sent. _Lady with Servant and Dog _it was called, another work by Jacob Ochtervelt, so she naturally volunteered for restoration services as soon as she heard it was coming in.

She was wearing a pair of special magnifying glasses and had a small brush in her hand, ready to begin cleaning when she heard the door to the room open down the hall. If it were one of the restoration team, most likely James, he would make his presence known as soon as he opened the door. However, this person was walking slowly down the hallway, and stopped before Alexis could see who it was.

"Hello?" she asked, lifting the glasses off of her head. "Who's out there?"

"An old friend."

She recognized the male voice immediately and sprang from her chair, carefully setting down the brush before running over to the hallway.

"Jesse, hi!" she greeted, giving her friend a hug. "God, it's been months! Where the hell have you been?"

"I went back to America for a bit. My mom kind of took a turn for the worst, and, well…"

The smile on her face faded. "Oh, no, Jesse. Jesse, I am so sorry." She pulled him into a tight embrace. "When?"

"Five months ago. It's not like it was unexpected, though. And plus, she went in her sleep. There was no pain."

"That's good." She pulled away and looked up at him. "How are you doing?"

"It's gotten better. I finally got all of her stuff and her house squared away, so I figured I'd get my ass back to England and see how my American friend was doing."

She smiled sadly. "Well, I've been working here. Got a hell of a raise last week."

"Still dating that Sherlock guy." He pulled out a newspaper from his back pocket and opened it up to a picture of her, Sherlock, and John on the front page.

"Yep, still dating him."

"Your life must be pretty damn interesting, then."

"Very."

He chuckled. "Well, they told me up there that I could come back and see you, but that I couldn't see the restoration in progress. If we have to stay in the hallway, could you at least give me a chair to sit in?"

"Oh god, don't mind them. Come on." She took him by the wrist and brought him into the room, sitting him in the chair next to hers.

"This is another Ochtervelt, isn't it?" he asked, examining the painting closely. "Your favorite, right?"

"Yeah. Once I heard we were getting it, I jumped at the opportunity for restoration. I couldn't stand the thought of someone who doesn't care about Ochtervelt cleaning it."

He chuckled again. "Alexis Gilmore, passionate as ever. One of the many things I missed about you."

She smiled slightly, sitting down at the painting and picking up the brush.

"Listen, I'm not sure you'd be up for it considering you're dating this Sherlock…"

"Sherlock Holmes," she corrected, keeping her eyes fixed on the painting.

"Right, Sherlock Holmes. But look, Alexis, I really have missed you. The last time I saw you was that night after the Life Drawing class…and you never came to the one the next week."

"I know, but if I remember correctly, I had a previously planned date with Sherlock that night. Couldn't give that up for a figure drawing class. No offense, of course."

"None taken. But anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch sometime. I'm back in school, and they're giving me a position as a docent here."

"A docent? Really?" Her nerves grew unpleasantly more intense.

"Yeah, but if-"

He was interrupted by Alexis's phone ringing. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw that it was John calling.

"Sorry, Jesse, I have to take this." She stood up and walked across the room. "John?"

_"Alexis, Sherlock and I are on our way to the Tower of London right now."_

"Tower of London? What for?"

_"For our latest case, it would seem." _There was a long pause at the other end.

"John? Are you there?" she checked.

_"Alexis…he's back. Moriarty is back."_

Alexis froze. Her entire body went numb, and without even knowing it, she'd dropped the phone.

"Alexis, you okay?" Jesse asked, walking over and picking up the phone. "Alexis, what is it?"

She suddenly snapped back into consciousness and snatched the phone from his hand. "I-I'm sorry, Jesse, I've got to go."

She ran out of the restoration room, ignoring Jesse's concerned calls. She also completely disregarded John having been on the other end of the phone as she rushed into Trafalgar Square and jumped into a cab.

The ten minute drive to the Tower felt like an hour, and she was relieved when she was escorted inside by one of Lestrade's officers. She was taken into the security room where she found Sherlock, John, and Lestrade looking at one of the monitors.

"Sherlock?" she asked sheepishly.

All three men turned to look at her.

"I should have known you'd show up," Lestrade said, trying to sound friendly though stressed colored his voice.

"Hey, Alexis," John told her gently.

She walked over and stood next to Sherlock, who'd not taken his eyes off the monitor. He responded to her presence by grabbing her hand and holding it tightly in his.

"It's the security footage from the break-in earlier," he told her.

She nodded and looked at the screen, her heart sinking at what she saw. The video footage was on loop, and it showed the monster himself performing the crime. And, according to Lestrade, this was one of only three major crimes he'd been a part of that day. Pentonville Prison and the Bank of London had been broken into at the same time, and Moriarty was behind it all. But how?

"That glass is tougher than anything," Lestrade told them.

"Not tougher than crystalized carbon," Sherlock pointed out. "He used a diamond."

Lestrade replayed the part just before he smashed the glass, showing them the words "Get Sherlock" written on them.

Sherlock said nothing. He just stared at the monitor.


	44. Chapter 43

May 14, 2012

Sherlock was arranged to be called as an expert witness in Moriarty's trial. That morning, they were gathered in the living room, ready to be escorted to the court. Alexis helped straighten Sherlock's shirt collar, allowing her hand to linger near his neck for a moment. He pulled her in for a deep kiss, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him, as if to silently wish him good luck.

They all took a deep breath just before they opened the front door, and they were immediately met by countless reporters and photographers. A few officers helped hold them back as the three of them were walked to the police car at the sidewalk, and they drove away without a word.

Alexis was restless, constantly straightening her blazer and her skirt. From the moment she heard the words "He's back", she was frantic. The very mention of Moriarty's name always signaled danger, and she would be paranoid for a while that something bad was going to happen. Sherlock noticed this about her as soon as she walked into the Tower of London, and he was desperate to do whatever he had to to help her. However, he himself was distracted by Moriarty's return, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Remember-" John began, but Sherlock cut him off.

"Yes."

"Remember-"

"Yes."

John tightened his lips, sighing. "Remember what they told you. Don't try to be clever. And please, just keep it simple and brief."

"God forbid the star witness in the trial should come across as intelligent," Sherlock muttered.

"Intelligent, fine. Let's give smartarse a wide berth."

He paused a moment before saying, "I'll just be myself."

"Are you listening to me?" He was genuinely annoyed now.

"Just tell them what they want to know and nothing more," Alexis instructed, not looking at either of them.

Sherlock reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm glad you're coming," he told her quietly.

She looked over at him. "I wouldn't miss it for anything." She gave him a quick peck on the lips, and before they knew it, they arrived at the Bailey.

John and Alexis went up to the public gallery and took their seats while Sherlock went off to the bathroom. Alexis could hardly sit still in her seat, having been fiddling with the ends of her shirt and the hem of her skirt for the past five minutes. John noticed this and put his hand against her back.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, leaning in closer to her.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, just…" She sighed and turned to face him more. "John, you know how I feel about this guy. I realize that he's in custody now, but he could still…do something. He could still…" She couldn't finish her sentence, as she started to feel tears form in her eyes.

"Hey, come on," he said, wrapping an arm around her and rubbing her shoulders gently. "It's going to be fine, alright? Moriarty is on trial for some pretty bad crimes. He can't possibly get out of this. And, you know Sherlock won't let him hurt you."

"I know."

Just then, multiple officers escorted Moriarty into the courtroom. The very sight of him made Alexis's skin crawl, and she only prayed that he wouldn't acknowledge her.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the trial had begun, and Sherlock was called to the stand. He looked up briefly at Alexis and John as he walked into the witness box.

"A consulting criminal," the female barrister repeated.

"Yes," Sherlock confirmed.

"Your words. Can you expand on that answer?"

"James Moriarty is for hire."

"A tradesman?"

"Yes."

"But not the sort who'd fix your heating?"

"No, the sort who'd plant a bomb or stage an assassination, but I'm sure he'd make a pretty decent job of your boiler."

There was a low rumble of laughter amongst the court, and even the barrister couldn't help but smile. She continued.

"Would you describe him as-?"

"Leading," he said, cutting her off.

"What?"

"Can't do that. You're leading the witness. He'll object and the judge will uphold." He nodded to the defending barrister, who was sitting down and writing on a notepad.

"Mr. Holmes," the judge said, annoyed.

"As me how. How would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Did they not teach you this?"

Alexis pinched the bridge of her knows, repeating the words "Shut up" in her head over and over.

"Mr. Holmes, we're fine without your help," the judge instructed.

"_How _would you describe this man, his character?" the barrister asked him.

"First mistake."

He narrowed his eyes at Moriarty, who had straightened up after standing there like he didn't care the entire time. He returned the gaze just as intensely.

"James Moriarty isn't a man at all. He's a spider. A spider at the center of a web. A criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances."

Moriarty nodded slowly at him.

The barrister cleared her throat. "And how long-"

"No, no don't… Don't do that. That's really not a good question."

"Mr. Holmes," the judge warned, now getting angry.

John and Alexis grew more and more anxious as he continued to be difficult.

"How long have I known him?" Sherlock asked. "Not really your best line of enquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun. He tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something."

"Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert?" the judge asked the barrister in disbelief. "After knowing the accused for just five minutes?"

"Two minutes would have made me an expert. Five was ample," Sherlock told him.

"Mr. Holmes, that's a matter for the jury."

"Oh really?"

John and Alexis each took a deep breath. They knew what was coming, and they knew it wasn't going to end well.

Sherlock fixed his eyes on the members of the jury. "One librarian, two teachers, two high-pressure jobs, probably the City. Foreman's a medical secretary, trained abroad, judging by her short hair."

"Mr. Holmes-"

"Seven are married, and two are having an affair with each other, it would seem. Oh, and they've just had tea and biscuits. Would you like to know who ate the wafer?"

"Mr. Holmes! You've been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess. Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt. Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes without showing off?"

He paused for a moment, eliciting a bit of hope within John and Alexis. However, that hope was short-lived when he opened his mouth and made an observation about the judge's bad marriage. He was removed from the court immediately, and they both merely sat there, horrified and pissed off.

"I can't believe him," Alexis muttered. "What an ass." She rose from her seat. "I'll be at the flat."

"Alexis, hang on."

He tried to stop her, but he had to let her go for fear of creating yet another scene in the court.

* * *

Once she got back to the flat, she wasn't sure what to do with herself. Truth be told, she wasn't as mad at Sherlock as she let on. She just wanted an excuse to get out of that court and away from Moriarty. John had been adamant in telling her that he was going to be put away, and it was just logical. He broke into three of the most secure places in the entire country. They had him on video breaking into the Crown Jewels, for God's sake! However, a bad feeling at the pit of her stomach told her that it wasn't as simple as that. Something would happen, and Moriarty would break free. And when he did, he would come after Sherlock.

About half an hour later, she was sitting in the bedroom when she heard Sherlock and John walk into the living room. They were discussing the events of that day, and so she walked nonchalantly into the kitchen to listen in, not particularly wanting to talk to Sherlock at the moment.

"…Three of the most secure places in the country, and six weeks ago, Moriarty breaks in, no one knows how or why," John said, sitting down in his chair. "All we know is-"

"He ended up in custody," Sherlock finished, looking at him knowingly.

Alexis shook her head as she washed the cups in the sink. He thought John knew what he was talking about, but he really didn't. He did this all the time.

"Don't do that," John told him uncomfortably.

"Do what?"

"The look."

"Look?"

"You're doing the look again."

"Well, I can't see it, can I?"

John gestured to the mirror above the fireplace, and Sherlock glanced at it. He wasn't getting it.

"It's my face."

"Yes, and it's doing a thing. You're doing a 'we both know what's really going on here' face."

"Well, we do."

"No, _I _don't, which is why I find 'the face' so annoying."

"If Moriarty wanted the jewels, he'd have them. If he wanted those prisoners freed, they'd be out on the streets. The only reason he's still in a prison cell right now is because he chose to be there. Somehow this is part of his scheme."

Alexis accidentally dropped one of the mugs into the sink, and the two men looked over at her.

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath, carefully picking out the broken pieces.

"John," Sherlock said, signaling for him to leave the room. He quickly got the hint and nodded, walking upstairs to his room. Sherlock walked into the kitchen and approached her, but she refused to look up at him.

"You just had to keep talking, didn't you?" she asked him bitterly, tossing the mug pieces into the trash. "Sherlock Holmes always has to get the final word in, and look where that got you! In a prison cell, until the trial ended for the day."

"Alexis-" he started to say gently, but she cut him off by holding up her hand and spinning around to face him.

"No, Sherlock! You know what? It's fine! We're only dealing with one of the most important trials of our life, of probably anyone's life, and you had to badmouth the goddamn judge! Brilliant! Congratulations, Sherlock! Everyone knows you're a genius now!"

"Alexis-"

"Meanwhile, Jim Moriarty is sitting there in prison, probably in the middle of some brilliantly awful plan that will get him a free ticket out of custody and back on the streets! And you know damn well that, as soon as he's out, he's coming for you, Sherlock! You!" The tears started to form in her eyes again, and her throat felt tight. "But you're not scared, are you? Because you're Sherlock Holmes! You always have a plan! You always outsmart the enemy! No one ever gets to you, do they?"

"You did."

She looked at him with disbelief, and she couldn't hold it in any longer. She burst into violent sobs, and Sherlock gathered her into his arms and held her tightly. He stroked her hair and rocked her gently as she cried into his chest, overcome by the stress and emotion that was building up inside her for the past six weeks. He hated seeing her like this, and he knew Moriarty was the cause. He vowed to do whatever he had to to stop him. To expect the unexpected. They stood there for a little while longer, then Sherlock guided her into the bedroom so he could comfort her with a bit more privacy. They didn't end up making love that night, but they were together. That was all that mattered.

* * *

May 15, 2012

Alexis gathered up the courage to accompany John to the continuation of the trial next day. Sherlock stayed back at the flat, knowing that his presence wouldn't be appreciated by the judge, or any members of the court for that matter.

"Mr. Crayhill, can we have your first witness," the judge requested.

The defending barrister stood up, and he looked somewhat nervous.

"Your honor, we're not calling any witnesses."

A gasp filled the entire court, and John and Alexis perked up at this statement.

"I don't follow," the judge told him. "You've entered a plea of 'not guilty'."

"Nevertheless, my client is offering no evidence. The defense rests."

He sat back down, and Moriarty slowly turned to look up at John and Alexis. He pursed his lips, then gave Alexis a wink before turning around. The gesture made her want to throw up.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, James Moriarty stands accused of multiple counts of attempted burglary. Crimes which, if he's found guilty, will elicit a very long custodial sentence and yet his legal team has chosen to offer no evidence whatsoever to support their plea. I find myself in the unusual position of recommending a verdict wholeheartedly. You must fine him guilty."

The court adjourned to allow the jury to come to a verdict, and John and Alexis were sat on a bench just outside the courtroom. He held her hand tight in support, as if trying to take Sherlock's place as her comforter.

It was just six minutes after they adjourned when people started rushing back into the courtroom. John and Alexis stood up, stunned.

"Coming back," the court clerk told them, walking past them.

John looked down at his watch. "That was six minutes."

"Surprised it took them that long, to be honest. There was a queue for the loo."

They looked at each other and followed the rest of the crowd back into the courtroom. When everyone was seated, the clerk stood up and faced the jury.

"Have you reached a verdict on which you all agree?" he asked.

Everyone in the court held their breath as they waited for the verdict. The head juror rose to her feet slowly, her gaze placid yet somehow despairing.

"We have. We the jury find the defendant, James Moriarty…not guilty."

There was a low gasp that emanated throughout the court. No one could believe what they heard, not even the judge. However, the verdict stood, and the judge officially ended the trial.

"No…" was all Alexis could say.

"Not guilty! They found him not guilty," John shouted into his phone. "No defense and Moriarty's walked free."

Sherlock was on the other end, and unbeknownst to John, he'd set the phone down.

"Sherlock? Are you listening? He's out. You know he'll be coming after you. Sherlock?"

Alexis was leaned up against the outside wall of the court as John tried to get through to him. She didn't know what to say. Frankly, she didn't think she could even speak. Her worst fears came true; Moriarty was free.

"He hung up," John told her. "But before he did, he told me to take you for tea. I don't know what he meant by that."

"He doesn't want us at the flat for a while," she said, no emotion in her voice as she stared out at the street. "You said it yourself, John. He's free and he's going to go after him."

He sighed and put a hand on her shoulder. "Alexis, I'm sorry. I don't know what the hell he did, because this is just insane."

She slowly turned her head to face him. "I know it is."

He cleared his throat. "Anyway…where do you think we should go for tea?"

"I'm not going for tea, John."

"Alexis, Sherlock clearly doesn't want-"

"I know, but I have to be with him. I can't…look, I just can't." She walked to the edge of the sidewalk and raised her arm to hail a cab.

"Alexis, come on!" he pleaded, running up alongside her.

"I'll take my time getting home, John, I promise. I need to make a stop first, anyway."

A cab pulled up alongside the curb, and Alexis instructed the driver to take her to the Bunhill Fields burial grounds. John watched helplessly as she pulled away, fearing for both her safety and her well-being. Just as well, he felt the same way about Sherlock.

* * *

"Most people knock. But then, you're not most people, I suppose."

Sherlock discontinued playing Bach's Sonata Number 1 in G Minor on his violin and turned to face Jim Moriarty, who'd just walked into the living room of 221B.

"Kettle's just boiled."

Moriarty walked to the middle of the room, glancing around as he picked up an apple from a basket on the coffee table.

"Johann Sebastian would be appalled," he told him, looking over at the chairs. "May I?"

"Please." He gestured to John's chair with the violin bow, his eyes narrowing when he sat down in his seat instead.

Moriarty took out a knife and began to carve into the apple as Sherlock poured him a cup of tea.

"You know," Moriarty began, "while he was on his deathbed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end."

"And the dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it."

"Couldn't cope with an unfinished melody."

"Neither can you. It's why you've come."

"But be honest, you're just a tiny bit pleased."

"What? With the verdict?" Sherlock handed him his cup.

"With me. Back on the streets. Every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain." He raised his eyebrows and smiled up at him, but he simply glared right back.

"You need me, or you're nothing," Moriarty told him. "Because we're just alike, you and I. Except you're boring. You're on the side of the angels." He took a sip of his tea.

"You got to the jury, of course," Sherlock said, stirring his tea.

"I got into the Tower of London, you think I can't worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?"

"Cable network," he determined, unbuttoning his jacket and taking a seat.

"Every hotel bedroom has a personalized T.V. screen. And every person has their pressure point, someone that they want to protect from harm. Easy peasey." He raised his eyebrows. "See, that's one thing you have in common with normal people. You know who I'm talking about."

He closed his eyes and took a sip of tea. "Alexis," he whispered.

"How is she, anyway, Alexis? Has she missed me? I know she's been thinking about me an awful lot. I hope you're not jealous." He took another sip.

"So how are you going to do it?" he asked, ignoring his last statement. "Burn me?"

"Oh, that's the problem. The final problem." He stared at him for a minute, bringing his cup up to his mouth. "Have you worked out what it is yet?"

Sherlock said nothing as he took a sip, bringing the cup out of his mouth slowly.

"What's the final problem?" Moriarty asked him. "I did tell you. But did you listen?" He said this in sing-song before he took another drink. He put the cup down on the saucer and began to tap his left knee with four fingers. Sherlock noted this, and he examined the movement for a moment.

"How hard do you find it having to say 'I don't know'?"

"I don't know," he replied mockingly, setting down his cup.

"Oh, that's clever. That's very clever. Awfully clever. Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?"

"Told them what?" He brought his hands to his lips in prayer style.

"Why I broke into all those places and never took anything?"

"No."

"But you understand."

"Obviously."

"Off you go, then." He took a piece of the apple he'd cut and put it in his mouth.

"You want me to tell you what you already know?" The question sounded like a statement.

"No, I want you to prove that you know it."

"You didn't take anything because you don't need to."

"Good."

"You'll never need to take anything ever again."

"Very good. Because?"

"Because nothing…nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London, or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you into all three."

"I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now. They're all mine. No such thing as secrecy. I _own _secrecy."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at him.

"Nuclear codes, I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king. And honey, you should see me in a crown."

He smirked, and put his arms on the arms of the chair. "You were advertising all the way through the trial. You were showing the world what you can do."

"And you were helping. Big client list."

Sherlock frowned at him.

"Rogue governments, intelligence communities. Terror cells. They all want me. Suddenly, I'm Mr. Sex." He smirked and ate another piece of the apple.

"You can break any bank. What do you care about the highest bidder?"

"I don't. I just like to watch them all competing. 'Daddy loves me the best!' Aren't ordinary people adorable? Well, you know. You've got John, and Alexis. I should get myself a live-in set."

"Why are you doing all of this?" Sherlock asked, his voice raspy.

"It must be so funny."

"You don't want money or power, not really. What is it all for?"

Moriarty stuck the knife farther into the apple, carving some sort of shape into it.

"I want to solve the problem," he said, leaning forward in the chair. "Our problem. The final problem." He lowered his head. "It's going to start very soon, Sherlock. The fall. But don't be scared. Falling's just like flying except there's a more permanent destination." He made the sound of a descending whistle, then imitated a thud; demonstrating the fall, it would seem.

Sherlock rose from his chair, fastening the button on his jacket once more. He looked into Moriarty's eyes and said, "I never like riddles."

Moriarty stood up, straightening his jacket as he locked an intense gaze with him. "Learn to. Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. I…owe…you."

He stared at him another moment before slowly walking past him, descending the stairs and walking out of the flat. Sherlock's eyes traveled down to the apple he left stuck to his knife on the arm of the chair. Carefully, he picked it up by the handle and rotated the apple around to read what it said.

"I O U."

Suddenly, a new set of footsteps was heard ascending the staircase to the living room. Sherlock slowly turned around, still holding the apple, and found Alexis standing in the doorway. Her expression was virtually unreadable, and her gaze drifted to the apple in his hand.

"I take it you didn't carve that apple," she said, no emotion in her voice.

"And I take it you didn't go for tea." He put down the apple and walked over to her.

"I had other plans." She took his hands in hers, bringing them up to her mouth and kissing them. "What do we do now?"

"We wait."

She reached up and kissed him, pressing her body against his and moving her hand to the back of his neck. "For now, just come with me."

She took one of his hands and led him to the bedroom.


	45. Chapter 44

_**I know the dates may seem off, but they have been since practically the beginning. I wanted to space out cases just right, and I tried to follow John's blog. Either way, Sherlock…well, you know, in June around the 15**__**th**__**, so, here we go…**_

_**Topaz16: Glad you finally caught up! Thanks for the many reviews & the support!**_

_**Midnight Angel414: Oh believe me I understand. I don't watch it much either. As I watch it while I write, it's the first time I'm watching in weeks!**_

* * *

June 14, 2012

About a month later, Sherlock were sat in the living room at Baker Street on a Thursday. The two of them were sat on the couch, Alexis having draped her legs over Sherlock's as he explained a case he'd just completed the day prior. From the way things were going, it seemed more than likely that they would take their conversation to the bedroom pretty soon. However, when they heard two sets of footsteps coming up the stairs, they separated quickly. They were met with Lestrade and Sergeant Donovan.

"There's been a kidnapping," Lestrade told them. "Two children of a U.S. Ambassador."

Sherlock rose from the couch and walked over to the table, opening his laptop. Before Lestrade could even continue, John walked into the room, looking confused.

"Sherlock, there's something weird…" he started to say, then he set eyes on Lestrade and Donovan. "What's going on?"

"Kidnapping," Sherlock replied.

"Rufus Bruhl, the Ambassador to the U.S.," Lestrade explained.

"He's in Washington, isn't he?"

"Not him. His children. Max and Claudette. Aged seven and nine. They're at St. Aldate's."

"Posh boarding place down in Surrey," Donavan said.

"School broke up. All the other boarders went home. Just a few kids remained, including those two."

"The kids have vanished."

"The Ambassador's asked for you personally," Lestrade said to Sherlock.

"The Reichenbach hero," Donovan commented sarcastically.

Sherlock said nothing and walked out of the room and down the stairs, Alexis and John following close behind.

"Isn't it great to be working with a celebrity?" Lestrade joked.

* * *

They reached the boarding school in about an hour. Alexis couldn't help but marvel at how huge and beautiful the building was, but that wonder was immediately extinguished by the sight of police cars and officers surrounding the area. They got out of the car and saw a woman wrapped in a blanket sitting on the front of the police car. She was clearly in shock, and she couldn't seem to stop crying.

"Miss MacKenzie, House Mistress," Lestrade told Sherlock quietly. "Go easy."

Sherlock approached her. "Miss MacKenzie. You're in charge of pupil welfare, yet you left this place wide open last night! What are you, an idiot, a drunk, or a criminal?" He was shouting at her now and he ripped the blanket from her shoulders. "Now, quickly, tell me!"

The others turned at the sound of his shouting. Miss MacKenzie gasped with fright.

"All the doors and windows were properly bolted," she told him, fear lacing her voice. "No one, not even me went into their room last night. You have to believe me!"

Sherlock's face went calm and he lowered his voice. "I do, I just wanted you to speak quickly." He started to walk away toward the others. "Miss MacKenzie will need to breathe into a bag now."

John and Alexis looked at him in disbelief, then glanced at the poor woman before following him into the school. Lestrade and Donovan went with them.

They first entered the room where the daughter slept. It was pink, just as you'd suspect for a girl's room, and numerous cots lined the walls. There honestly wasn't much to it, which made Alexis question why it was considered such a posh place.

"Six grand a term, you'd expect them to keep the kids safe for you," John commented.

"Six grand a term, the kids should have their own mansion and security guard," Alexis added.

Sherlock opened the small closet next to Claudette's bed, then got on the floor and looked under the bed.

"So the other kids had all left on their holidays?" John asked Lestrade.

"They were the only two sleeping on this floor," he said. "Absolutely no sign of a break-in. The intruder must have been hidden inside some place."

Sherlock grabbed a lacrosse stick lying on the floor next to the bed and rose to his feet. He examined it closely, moving it about in his hand before dropping it on the floor with a thud. He walked over to a pink trunk and pulled out a manila envelope. It had a red, wax on the outside of it that appeared to be broken, and there was something inside the envelope. He pulled out a hard cover book, and it turned out to be "Grimm's Fairy Tales". He quickly examined the outside of the book and flipped through the pages before putting it back in the trunk.

"Show me where the brother slept."

Sherlock walked slowly into the boy's room, a contrasting blue just as would be expected. Max's bed was in the corner of the room, in perfect sight of the door, which had a frosted pane in it.

"Boy sleeps there every night," he said, pointing to the bed then over to the door, "gazing at the only light source, outside in the corridor. He'd recognize every shape, every outline. The silhouette of everyone who came to the door."

"Okay, so?" Lestrade questioned.

"So someone approaches the door who he doesn't recognize. An intruder. Maybe he can even see the outline of a weapon." He walked out into the hallway and shut the door. He held his hand out in front of him, moving his fingers into the shape of a gun.

"What would he do in the precious few seconds before they came into the room?" he asked, walking back in and back over to the bed. "How would he use them if not to cry out? This little boy, this particular little boy, who reads all of those spy books. What would he do?" He walked to the other side of the bed and crouched down.

"He'd leave a sign?" Lestrade offered.

Sherlock started to sniff the area, briefly picking up a cricket bat to sniff that before his nose led him to the small nightstand. On the floor, just in front of it, was a glass bottle. Linseed oil.

"Get Anderson."

Anderson arrived not too long after, and he assisted in darkening the room and the hallway as much as possible. Sherlock re-entered the room with a black light, and he walked over to the wall and revealed a message the boy had left them.

"HELP ME"

"Linseed oil," Sherlock said, walking back toward the center of the room.

"My god, what a brilliant kid," Alexis said, looking at the wall in awe.

"Not much use," Anderson said to them. "Doesn't lead us to the kidnapper."

"Brilliant, Anderson," Sherlock told him.

"Really?"

"Yes, brilliant impression of an idiot." He held the light out in front of him and hunched over slightly. "The floor."

They all looked down and saw three sets of footprints. Two from children, and one from a grown man.

"He made a trail for us," John observed, just as amazed as Alexis was.

They walked behind Sherlock as he followed the trail with the light, and he explained what took place as they went.

"The boy was made to walk ahead of them," Sherlock said.

"On tiptoe?" John asked.

"Indicates anxiety. Gun held to his head."

"Dear god. Who the hell…" Alexis's voice trailed off as she shook her head.

"The girl was pulled beside him, dragged sideways. He had his left arm cradled about her neck."

"That's the end of it. We don't know where they went from here," Anderson pointed out as the footsteps slowly faded. He turned back and looked at Sherlock as he walked away. "Tells us nothing after all."

"You're right, Anderson. Nothing. Except his shoe size, his height, his gait, his walking pace."

Alexis smiled as he reached up and tore the material from the window and crouched down to the floor. He chuckled pleasingly to himself as he took out one of his toolkits and began to peel scrapings from the footprints off the floor. John knelt down beside him.

"Having fun?" he asked.

"Starting to."

"Maybe don't do the smiling. Kidnapped children?"

He lowered his head back down and pulled off a few more scrapings, putting them all into a container and back into his pocket. From there, the three of them went back to Bart's so Sherlock could examine the scrapings and determine where the kidnapper had been prior to abducting Claudette and Max.

They were entering one of the hallways as Molly Hooper opened the doors.

"Molly," Sherlock greeted cheerfully.

"Oh, hello, I'm just going out," she replied.

"No, you're not." He tapped her shoulder and spun her around to walk with them back to the lab.

"I've got a lunch date."

"Cancel it. You're having lunch with me." He pulled out two bags of chips from his coat pockets and quickly stuffed them back in.

"What?"

"Need your help. It's one of your boyfriends, we're trying to track him down. He's been a bit naughty."

"It's Moriarty," John realized.

"Of course it's Moriarty."

"Jim actually wasn't even my boyfriend. We went out three times. I ended it," Molly told them, somewhat proudly.

"Yes, and then he stole the Crown Jewels, broke into the Bank of England, and organized a prison break at Pentonville," Sherlock retorted quickly. "For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship Molly."

He smiled and flashed one of the bags of chips at her before walking into the lab. Alexis smiled sadly at her before they followed him in.

* * *

Not to anyone's surprise, Molly had broken down and agreed to help Sherlock. Five minutes later, she pushed her way into the lab, now wearing her lab coat and carrying a huge stack of books. John and Alexis were stood near the other side of the lab while Sherlock sat at the microscope, wasting no time in examining the floor scrapings.

"Oil, John," he told him. "The oil in the kidnapper's footprint. It'll lead us to Moriarty."

He took out each sample and placed them in separate test tubes, adding a liquid to each of them, which made the substance fizz. He examined each new substance that had formed under the microscope.

"All the chemical traces on his shoe have been preserved. The sole of the shoe is like a passport. If we're lucky, we can see everything that he's been up to."

Molly had been assisting him with the substances the entire time, though he barely acknowledged her presence and even mistook her for John at one point. Despite her usual tolerance for his behavior, it was starting to become evident that she was being bothered by it. Evident, that is, to everyone but Sherlock.

After about half an hour, Sherlock had been able to identify every substance but one. He wrote down the first four on a notepad beside him. Chalk, Asphalt, Brick Dust, and Vegetation. He was having difficulty identifying the final substance, but it only made him concentrate all the more.

"IOU…" he whispered absentmindedly.

Molly was working at the counter right next to him and heard this. She looked up at him briefly, locking eyes with him and quickly looking away.

"Glycerol molecule," he muttered, sighing. "What are you?"

"What did you mean, 'I owe you'?" Molly asked him. "You said, 'I owe you.' You were muttering it while you were working."

"Nothing. Mental note," he replied curtly.

She looked over at him. "You're a bit like my dad. He's dead. Oh, sorry."

"Molly, please don't feel the need to make conversation. It's really not your area."

"When he was…dying, he was always cheerful. He was lovely. Except when he thought no one could see." She paused a moment. "I saw him once. He looked sad."

"Molly…" he warned.

"You look sad. When you think they can't see you."

Sherlock looked up from his microscope and glanced over at John and Alexis, then turned his head to face her.

"Are you okay? Don't just say you are, because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no one can see you."

"You can see me."

"I don't count."

Those three words went straight to his heart. As he looked at Molly as if for the first time, he remembered back about a year and a half ago when he'd taken Alexis to the Chinese restaurant.

_'And…I know it may not mean much coming from me, but…I care about you. I just want you to be okay,' _is what she said to him. It made him realize that this is what Molly was trying to tell him now. In friendship.

"What I'm trying to say," she continued, 'is that if there's anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all, you can have me." She shut her eyes and cursed herself silently for her choice of words. "No, I just mean…I mean… If there's anything you need, it's fine."

Sherlock wasn't sure how to deal with this. It was one thing with Alexis, because he was in love with her. They had a deep connection. But Molly was different. He didn't have any feelings for her whatsoever, nor did he ever. He wasn't even sure he would consider her a friend.

"But w-what could I need from you?" he asked, not entirely happy with that answer.

"Nothing. I don't know," she told him quietly, shrugging. "But you could probably say thank you, actually."

"…Thank you," he replied automatically.

She started to walk off towards the door. "I'm just going to go and get some crisps. Do you want anything?"

He went to open his mouth, but she cut him off.

"It's okay. I know you don't."

"Well, actually, maybe I'll-"

"I know you don't."

With that, she walked out of the room, leaving Sherlock sitting there, conflicted.

John and Alexis hadn't been doing much while Sherlock was working. All Alexis could really do was silently worry. Everyone knew Moriarty was behind this kidnapping, but what she couldn't figure out was how it would connect to Sherlock.

John had been worried as well, but for the past ten minutes he'd submersed himself in crime scene photos from earlier that day. Alexis had only glanced at them every so often, but when John started looking at a photo rather intently, her interest rose.

"What is it?" she asked him. "Do you see something?"

"I think so. Sherlock?"

He got up from his seat and walked over to him, Alexis following close behind.

"Hmm?"

"This envelope was in her trunk," he said, referring to the picture of the red wax seal. "There's another one."

"What?" he asked, looking up from the microscope.

"On our doorstep. Found it today."

He dug out a small envelope from his coat pocket and walked it back over to Sherlock. It was the same color as the other one, and the same seal was stamped on the backside of it. He appeared to have torn it half open, and on the inside was a lot of grainy material.

"Yes, and look at that. Look at that. Exactly the same seal."

Sherlock reached into the envelope. "Breadcrumbs."

"Uh huh. It was there when I got back."

"A little trace of bread crumbs, hardback copy of fairy tales. Two children led into the forest by a wicked father follow a little trail of bread crumbs."

"That's _Hansel and Gretel_," Alexis pointed out.

"What sort of kidnapper leaves clues?" John asked.

"The sort that likes to boast. The sort that thinks it's all a game," Sherlock told them. "He sat in our flat and he said these exact words to me. 'All fairytales need a good old-fashioned villain.'" He suddenly had a realization and looked back into the microscope. "The fifth substance. It's part of the tale. The witch's house. The glycerol molecule. PGPR."

"What's that?" John asked him.

"It's used in making chocolate."

He jumped from his seat, and all at once they were on their way to Scotland Yard. When they arrived on Lestrade's floor, the inspector handed Sherlock a sheet of paper. It said "HURRY UP THEY'RE DYING!"

"This fax arrived an hour ago," he told him. "What have you got for us?"

Sherlock handed him the substance list as they made their way further into the office. "We need to find a place in the city where all five of these things intersect."

"Chalk, asphalt, brick dust, vegetation… What the hell is this? Chocolate?"

"I think we're looking for a disused sweet factory."

"We need to narrow that down. A sweet factory with asphalt?"

"No, no, no. Too general. Need something more specific, chalk, chalky clay. That's a far thinner band of geology."

"Brick dust," Lestrade read from the list.

"Building sight. Bricks from the 1950s."

"There's thousands of building sites in London!" He wiped his hands over his face. This case was starting to stress him out big time.

"I've got people out looking."

"So have I!"

"Homeless network. Faster than the police. Far more relaxed about taking bribes."

Just then, Sherlock's text alert went off, and his phone proceeded to beep more as he was flooded with photographs of potential locations around the city. He scanned through them as fast as he could, then stopped when he found a picture of purple flowers.

"John, Alexis," he said, holding the phone up to them. "Rhododendron ponticom. Matches."

They nodded, and all of a sudden, it hit him.

"Addlestone."

Lestrade looked up from one of the monitors. "What?"

"There's a mile of disused factories between the river and the park. It matches everything."

"Come on!"

* * *

They hurried to the factories as fast as they could. The three of them and a number of officers pulled up to the first building they saw and burst through the doors of it.

"You, look over there," Donovan instructed. "Look everywhere. Spread out, please. Spread out!"

Alexis found herself walking in the opposite direction of Sherlock and John, only thinking of covering as much ground as possible. She walked a few yards before she realized that only she and Sergeant Donovan were in the area, and she was a few aisles away from her.

"Claudette? Max?" she asked quietly, not wanting to scare them if she did find them.

"They're still here!" she heard Sherlock shout from across the building. This made her search more frantically for them, and her heart nearly stopped when she saw Donovan crouching on the ground. There was slight movement in front of her.

"Over here!" Donovan shouted.

Alexis rushed over to them, crouching behind her and shutting off her flashlight. More officers soon surrounded them and Sherlock and John approached soon after. She rose to her feet and walked over to them, leaning against Sherlock as he wrapped an arm around her.

They took the children away in an ambulance, and the rest of them went back to Scotland Yard. Sherlock paced back and forth as the three of them waited outside one of the offices, ready to interview the children at a moment's notice.

A few minutes later, Lestrade and Donovan emerged from the office.

"Right then, the professionals have finished," Donovan told them sharply. "If the amateurs want to go in and have their turn."

Alexis glared at Donovan. She knew all along that this woman wasn't exactly a saint, but she felt that her true colors were starting to surface at this point.

"Now, remember that she's in shock and she's just seven years old," Lestrade told them. "So…anything you can do to-"

"Not be myself," Sherlock answered.

"Yeah. Might be helpful."

"You two can go in. I'll just wait out here," Alexis said, sitting back down in one of the chairs.

Sherlock and John nodded at her as they walked through the door. Just as she was about to relax, however, the sound of a young girl's piercing scream filled the room. She jumped out of the chair and rushed over to the door.

"Out! Get out!" Lestrade shouted, pulling Sherlock from the room. He shut the door promptly, but the girl's screams could still be heard.

"What happened?" Alexis asked, walking up to Sherlock and resting a hand on his arm.

"I-I guess she's still afraid," John said.

Lestrade shrugged, not entirely sure what just happened himself. They all walked over to his office down the hall, Sherlock immediately walking over to the window and away from the rest of them.

"Makes no sense," John said.

"Kid's traumatized," Lestrade pointed out. "Something about Sherlock reminds her of the kidnapper."

"What's she said?"

"Hasn't uttered another syllable," Donovan told him.

"And the boy?"

"No, he's unconscious," Lestrade said. "Still in intensive care."

He looked over at Sherlock's still form.

"Well, don't let it get to you, I always feel like screaming when you walk into a room. In fact, so do most people."

His tone was light-hearted and he had good intentions, but it really didn't help at all.

The three of them silently walked out of the building, Alexis holding Sherlock's arm the entire way. When they reached the sidewalk, John hailed a cab and one pulled up right away.

"You okay?" John asked Sherlock.

"Thinking." He gently pulled out of Alexis's grasp and opened the cab door. "This is my cab. You two get the next one."

"Why?" she asked him.

"You might talk."

He got into the cab, and they watched as it pulled onto the street and drove off. John sighed and got another one fairly quickly. He held the door open for Alexis, noting the look of worry on her face.

"You okay?" he asked her as the cab pulled away.

"I'm worried about him, John. There's something not right about this whole thing."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know."

She turned her head and looked at him. "Did you happen to hear what Donovan said just as we were leaving?"

"Uh, no, I was out of the office before Sherlock was. I thought you were, too."

"I was, but I stayed back a bit so I could walk with Sherlock. As he was walking out, she said, 'Brilliant work you did, finding those kids from just a footprint. It's really amazing. Unbelievable.'"

"Huh."

"She sounded suspicious, John, and I'm telling you, if that woman causes any trouble…"

She put her face in her hands and leaned forward, shaking her head. He rested his hand on her back as a comforting gesture.

"He's going to be fine, Alexis. He… Oh my god."

She looked up at him. "What is it?"

"Stop the cab! Stop the cab, please!" he shouted at the driver.

"John, what is it?!" She was panicking.

The driver slammed on the breaks in the middle of the road, and the two of them dashed out of the car to find Sherlock standing over the body of a dead man.

"Oh my God."


	46. Chapter 45

_**Black-rose Marley: Yikes, I hope it didn't seem too awkward. :/ That's not what I was going for at all. I just wanted to make it so people know that Molly is still there for him, but as a friend, and the fact that she sounded so much like Alexis in that one line made it mean that more to Sherlock. He just doesn't know how to communicate deeply with people other than John and Alexis.**_

_**FantasyBard: The same thing happens to me. And I get into my OC's mindset deeply when I write, so I'll be getting depressed as I write this! And yes, I am continuing the story after Reichenbach most definitely! I have many, many plans. And thank you!**_

* * *

They called the police immediately, and the three of them stood on the sidewalk as they watched the victim being taken away in an ambulance. However, as John looked on, he realized something about the man. He recognized him.

"That is him. It's him," he said as he paced back and forth a bit. "Sulejmani or something. Mycroft showed me his files. A big Albanian gangster who lives two doors down from us."

"What?" Alexis asked, alarm evident in her voice.

"He died because I shook his hand," Sherlock told them.

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"Saved my life, but he couldn't touch me. Why?"

He walked away from them and into the flat. They quickly followed him and he ripped off his coat and scarf as they ascended the stairs.

"Four assassins living right on our doorstep." He took a seat at the table in front of his laptop. "They didn't come here to kill me. They have to keep me alive. I've got something that all of them want. But if one of them approaches me…"

"The others kill them before they can get it," John finished.

"I don't understand, though. What is it you have that they want so bad?" Alexis asked him.

He didn't answer her and quickly brought up the list of Wi-Fi networks in the area. There were five of them, all of which named something in a different language.

"All of the attention is focused on me. There's a surveillance web closing in on us right now."

Alexis gripped his shoulder as she looked at the screen. The true danger they were in was legitimately starting to sink in at this point. She was afraid, and what fueled that fear was the fact that Sherlock was visibly afraid as well. He was always so calm, so in control. This time, though, he wasn't. This was Moriarty. This was the devil. And the devil's target was Sherlock.

"So what have you got that's so important?" John asked, trying to get an answer to Alexis's question once more.

He ignored the question yet again, and he ran a finger along the table and looked at it a moment.

"We need to ask about the dusting."

He shouted for Mrs. Hudson, and she came up the stairs as quickly as she could. He wasted no time in drilling her with questions about her cleaning of the flat.

"Precise details. In the last week what's been cleaned?" he asked her quickly, walking around the room frantically."

"Well, Tuesday, I did your lino-"

"No, in here. This room. This is where we'll find it. Any break in the dust line. You can put back anything but dust. Dust is eloquent." He rubbed his fingers slightly before going back to his search.

"What's he on about?" Mrs. Hudson asked, just as confused as John and Alexis.

"I don't know," John told her.

Sherlock climbed up to look on one of the bookshelves. "Cameras. We're being watched."

"What?" Alexis and Mrs. Hudson asked in unison, both very much alarmed.

"Cameras? Here?" Mrs. Hudson asked again, closing her robe. "I'm in my nightie!"

She ran off in embarrassment as the doorbell rang, presumably to answer it whilst getting out of sight. Sherlock continued to climb about the wall, searching throughout the shelves for any place a camera could be hidden. When he neared the back corner, he moved the last book on one of the top shelves back and forth, and removed it to find a camera just as Lestrade walked into the room.

"No, Inspector," he said, not bothering to turn around.

"What?" Lestrade asked him.

"The answer is no." He stepped down, taking the small camera with him.

"You haven't heard the question."

"You want to take me down to the station. Just saving you the trouble of asking."

"Sherlock…"

"The scream?" He started to walk closer to him.

"Yeah."

"Who was it? Donovan? I bet it was Donovan."

Alexis's eyes went wide in horror, and she shot a quick look at John.

"God, I can't believe her," she muttered through gritted teeth.

"Am I somehow responsible for the kidnapping?" Sherlock continued bitterly. "Ah, Moriarty's smart. He planted that doubt in her head. That little nagging sensation you got to have to be strong to resist. You can't kill an idea, can you? Not once it's made a home…" He touched the middle of Lestrade's forehead with his finger. "…there."

He walked back over to his laptop and sat down in front of it.

"Will you come?" Lestrade asked, trying desperately to get him to be reasonable.

"One photograph, that's his next move. Moriarty's game. First the scream, then a photograph of me being taken in for questioning. He wants to destroy me inch by inch. It is a game, Lestrade, and not one I'm willing to play. Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan."

Lestrade looked down at the floor, then up at John before walking down the stairs and out of the flat. Alexis couldn't speak; couldn't think. Everything she feared, everything that made itself present in her vivid imagination, was slowly coming true. It made her sick, and she remained paralyzed in the center of the room. John put a supportive hand on her back before walking over to the window.

Sherlock hooked up the camera to his laptop and brought up the screen, staring at himself briefly.

"He'll be deciding," he told him.

"Deciding what?" John wondered, watching as Lestrade drove away.

"Whether to come back with a warrant and arrest me."

"You think?"

"Standard procedure."

Alexis slowly turned her head towards him, her eyes stinging with tears threatening to break through. He glanced briefly at her before going back to the laptop.

"Should have gone with him," John told him. "People will think…"

"I don't care what people think," he replied sharply.

"You'd care if they thought you were stupid or wrong."

"No, that would just make them stupid or wrong."

"Exactly," Alexis agreed quietly. "People are stupid. They're ignorant. They don't believe the truth, they believe what others tell them to believe. Usually something more interesting than the truth if possible."

"Sherlock, I don't want the world believing you're…" John stopped mid-sentence, not wanting to say out loud what everyone was thinking.

Sherlock eyed him a moment. "That I am what?"

"A fraud."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You're worried their right."

"What?"

"You're worried their right about me."

"No."

"That's why you're so upset, you can't even entertain the possibility that they might be right. You're afraid that you've been taken in as well."

"No I'm not."

"Moriarty is playing with your mind, too. Can't you SEE WHAT'S GOING ON?!" He slammed his fist on the table, making Alexis jump in her spot.

John remained calm and said, "No, I know you for real."

"A hundred percent?"

"Well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick all the time."

Sherlock looked at him, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth briefly, only to have that smirk fade when he heard a small sob come from Alexis in the center of the room.

"Alexis? You okay?" John asked.

Sherlock rose from his seat and walked over in front of her, resting his hands on her arms and kissing her forehead.

"I hate this," she whispered, completely ignoring John. "Everything's falling apart. He's destroying our life and I can't take it!"

He went to say something, but was interrupted by John's phone ringing. He answered the phone, and during the brief call he said maybe two words to whoever it was and hung up.

"So, I've still got some friends on the force," he said, stuffing the phone back in his pocket. "It's Lestrade. Says they're all coming over here right now. Queuing up to slap on the handcuffs, every single officer you ever made feel like a tit. Which is a lot of people."

"Oh, god, no." Alexis put her hand over her mouth and sniffled, trying her best not to start sobbing right then and there.

"Yoo hoo!" Mrs. Hudson announced as she entered the room. "Oh, sorry, am I interrupting? Some chap delivered a parcel. I forgot."

John walked over and took a small package from her. Everyone began to hear sirens wailing in the distance, the sound growing with each passing second.

"Marked perishable. I had to sign for it. Funny name. German. Like the fairytales."

Sherlock and Alexis looked over and saw that it was the same type of envelope with the same red seal on the back. He walked over as John opened it and pulled something out. A burnt, gingerbread cookie.

"Burnt to a crisp," Sherlock told them.

"What does it mean?" John asked him.

The police cars had now approached, as the sirens were almost deafening. They immediately heard harsh knocking at the door, and Mrs. Hudson and John went down to answer it. In the background, Alexis could hear Donovan shouting for Sherlock and barging through the door, but all she could really focus on was the sight of him slowly putting on his coat and scarf. The tears were now shamelessly sliding down her cheeks, and he took her face gently in his hands and kissed her deeply just before the officers reached the living room.

"Sherlock Holmes, I'm arresting you on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping."

Lestrade read him his rights as two officers held him in place and cuffed him. Mrs. Hudson and Alexis looked on in tears as John tried to argue for some decency on his part.

"He's not resisting," he tried to say.

"It's alright, John," Sherlock told him calmly.

"He's not resisting. No, it's not alright. This is ridiculous."

Lestrade sighed. "Get him downstairs, now."

The officers started to walk him down, and he looked over at Alexis just in time to see her mouth "I love you."

"You know you don't have to-"

John tried to further protest, but Lestrade pointed a finger at him.

"Don't try to interfere, or I shall arrest you, too."

He walked out of the room, and Donovan, who had been standing at the doorway the whole time, strode further in. The smug look on her face made he and Alexis want to murder her where she stood.

"You done?" he asked her.

"Oh, I said it. First time we met."

"Don't bother."

"'Solving crimes won't be enough. One day, he'll cross the line.' Now ask yourself, both of you, what sort of man would kidnap those kids just so he could impress us all by finding them?"

Mrs. Hudson gasped, and Alexis's anger reached its boiling point. She took a step closer to her.

"Donovan, why don't you just get the fuck out of here?! You manipulative, power-hungry, jealous, unintelligent bitch!"

Her tone was steady, but it chilled everyone in the room nonetheless. Donovan's mouth went agape, and she was about to respond to her before another man walked into the room.

"Donovan," he greeted.

"Sir," she replied, straightening up.

"That's our man?"

"Uh, yes, sir."

"Looked a bit of a weirdo, if you ask me."

"Excuse me, who the hell-"

Alexis was close to screaming now, but John held a hand up, signaling her to be quiet. He didn't need her getting into any trouble, though he was reaching the breaking point himself.

The man completely ignored her. "Often are, these vigilante types."

John shot him a sour glare, and he turned and stared down his nose at him.

"What are you looking at?"

Rather than with words, John answered him by punching him square in the nose.

A minute later, John was shoved up against the police car where Sherlock was. Alexis watched helplessly from the front doorway, her eyes transfixed on Sherlock. The entire street was blocked off, swarming with police cars and officers as far as the eye could see. The whole thing sickened her, and she found herself trying to think of any good lawyers in town. She was virtually powerless in this entire situation, and if the only way she could help was by getting Sherlock out of custody in the most legal way possible, then so be it.

Suddenly, Sherlock turned around and looked at her. They held an intense, but loving gaze for a moment before he turned back and whispered something to John. Then, all at once, chaos ensued.

A sharp, piercing sound caused interference through every officer's radio, causing them all to either double over in pain or rip the equipment from their ears. Sherlock managed to rip the gun from one of the officer's who'd been restraining him, and he and John backed away from the group of them.

"Ladies and gentleman, will you all please get on your knees?" Sherlock announced, continuing to back away slowly.

Nobody moved, and he proceeded to shoot two bullets into the air.

"Now would be good!"

"Do as he says!" Lestrade shouted, gesturing for everyone to get on the ground.

"No, Sherlock, no…" Alexis whispered to herself, knowing full well that this just made matters worse.

John was clearly flustered, and he was stammering as he said, "J-just so you're a-aware, th-the gun is his idea, I-I'm just, uh, you know…"

Sherlock answered for him by pointing the gun at his head. "My hostage!"

They officers looked on as they backed up farther, and they rose to their feet when they finally disappeared around the corner.

"Get after him, Lestrade!" the man, who Alexis discovered after John had punched him, was the Chief Superintendent ordered.

Donovan and the other officers ran to their respective cars immediately, but Lestrade lagged behind for as long as he could. He was clearly unhappy about everything that was going on, and that earned him some brownie points as far as Alexis was concerned.

She watched a little while longer as most of the cars pulled away, then slowly moved back into the flat and shut the door behind her. She went into the bedroom and packed a set of clothes, her toiletries, and her sketchbook into her overnight bag. She called Gwen to see if she would put her up to the night, explaining to her everything that had gone on that day and surprising herself by not bursting into tears midway through. Gwen agreed without question, and Alexis was out on the sidewalk ready to hail a cab when Lestrade approached her.

"Alexis, where are you going?" he asked her.

"Anywhere but here, Lestrade" she told him, her voice cracking. "I know the officers will be keeping a close eye on this place, and frankly, I can't stand being watched anymore."

He tightened his lips and exhaled through his nose, leaning closer to her. "If you get in a cab, they're going to follow you. They'll send a car to follow close behind to wherever you go. If we're quick, and you allow me to take you, they won't know where you go."

She took a deep breath. "I don't know where Sherlock is, Lestrade, I need you to know that and believe it. I have no idea what's going to happen."

"I don't either."

She shook her head, fighting back more tears. "I'm scared."

"Me too."

She smiled slightly, and he rested his hand on her back.

"Come on, no one's watching," he said, and they carefully snuck over to his car and took off towards Gwen's house.

Ten minutes later, they pulled up to the sidewalk just in front of Gwen's flat. Alexis could already see her peeking through her curtains, but she'd texted her on the way there telling her not to walk outside when she got there. She wanted a minute to talk with Lestrade.

"Well, here we are," he said, undoing his seatbelt. "No one's followed us."

"Thank you. Lestrade?"

"Hmm?"

She bit her lip, trying to find the right words for what she wanted to say. "You…you've always been behind him, supporting him, giving him a chance. It means a lot. To everyone."

He smiled slightly. "Well, Sherlock, he's…he's invaluable. He's the best there is. No one at the Yard is as good as he is. And no one ever will be."

"You're invaluable, too. I know it wasn't what you wanted to do. Arrest him, I mean."

"No. No, I didn't. Bloody cop instincts taking over. I know he didn't do this."

"So do I. So does John, and any other thinking person out there would know so."

He exhaled. "He is a fugitive now, Alexis. I can back him up with the kidnapping thing, but…"

"But you'd have to bring him in if you found him after fleeing police custody. I know."

"Well...you know, how could I really know if I saw him? I mean, he can't be the only man in London with a big, black coat wandering around, you know? I could say that, if I happened to see someone, he didn't entirely match the description, or a didn't get a proper look…or maybe I could just look the other way."

Alexis looked at him gratefully. She put a hand on his forearm and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Lestrade."

"My pleasure. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"You too."

She got out of the car and walked into the flat, looking back one last time before shutting the door behind her.


	47. Chapter 46

_**MATURE content.**_

_**A song to describe Sherlock and Alexis in this chapter:**_

_**What If You by Joshua Radin**_

_**Black-rose Marley: Ah ok I got you! I'm glad you liked Alexis's talk with Lestrade, too. I felt it important that people know that, despite him being a Detective Inspector, that deep down he's still behind Sherlock.**_

_**BeingHere: Thank you! And I think your hopes (at least for now) will be recognized in this chapter.**_

* * *

It took Sherlock longer than it normally would have, considering he had to travel on foot through countless alleyways and back streets, but he was able to make it to Gwen's flat without being seen. He scaled the fire escape and popped the window lock with ease. When he climbed through the window, he found himself in her living room and immediately searching for the bedroom. He was about to walk down the hall when he detected another presence in the room, and he turned around in time to deflect Gwen's arm from hitting him in the face with a frying pan. Her eyes went wide as he gripped her wrist, causing her to drop the pan to the carpet.

"Shhh," he said, putting a finger to his lips.

"You had better have a damn good explanation, Sherlock Holmes!" she whispered fiercely.

He let go of her wrist. "You won't be able to understand, Gwen, but I do need to see Alexis."

"How did you know she would be here?" She eyed him for a moment before it came to her. She shook her head. "Right. Never mind. She's in the spare bedroom, end of the hall."

"Thank you." He brushed past her and strode down to the hallway.

"Sherlock?" she asked suddenly.

He spun around on his heel and looked at her.

"Just make sure she knows you'll be alright, okay? She's scared."

He nodded. "I will."

"Oh, and sorry about the frying pan. I'm just not too keen on intruders."

"Obviously."

He nodded once more before making his way down the hall. He carefully opened the door to her room and stepped in, closing it as quietly as he could. He shed his coat and placed it over the quilt stand by the dresser, and he stood there for a moment as he watched her sleep. He could immediately tell that she was wearing her white nightgown, her favorite, and though she looked beautiful, she wasn't having a very peaceful sleep. She rolled over onto her back and moved her head to the side, and that's when Sherlock made the short trek over to the bed.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out to gently stroke her cheek. She stirred a bit, but she didn't wake. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, cupping her face as he did so and thus causing her to wake up. She made a few confused grunts and moved her head from side to side once before she focused in on his face.

"Sherlock!"

She pulled him in for a deep kiss, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him down on top of her. He was caught off guard by her intensity at first, but he soon adjusted and slowly began to pull her nightgown off. She pulled away so he could get it the rest of the way off, and she unbuttoned his jacket and pushed it from his shoulders. They got on their knees and their lips connected once more, both working to get the rest of Sherlock's clothes off as quickly as they could. When it came down to just his boxers remaining, he stopped her from removing them by taking her hands and kissing them both.

"I want it to last," he whispered.

She nodded and kissed him softly on the lips. He got up from the bed and stood beside it so he could remove his boxers, and she laid herself out so he could have full access to her. He climbed back on and knelt over her for a moment, his eyes grazing over her entire body. A blush rose in her cheeks which endeared him, and he gently laid himself on top of her and kissed her once more.

Their tongues moved in each other's mouths, but Sherlock soon pulled away to press kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. He slowly moved his way down to her neck, being sure not to suck to hard as he mouthed at her flesh. She buried a hand in his hair and moved the other around his shoulders as he kissed her, overwhelmed by his closeness. After everything that had happened, she savored every moment she had with him, and she felt this experience would be unique. That it would be the last for a while.

He took his time as he moved from her neck to her collarbone, kissing a line across the plane as he cradled her back with his hands. Moving further downward, he made sure to kiss and lick around the curve of her breasts before claiming a nipple. She moaned in pleasure as he suckled at her, not as intensely as usual but still ever so satisfying. He made a point to pressed a few open mouth kisses over the nipple before moving on to the next one, giving it just as much attention. She leaned down to kiss the top of his head before he moved on down her stomach, massaging her abs with his thumbs as he kissed and nuzzled her skin.

Alexis was becoming more and more overwhelmed and she all of a sudden flipped him onto his back. He made a sharp intake of breath and was about to protest, but she covered her mouth with his in a deep kiss. She pulled away and moved down to his chest, touching his lips with her fingers as she did so. He lightly kissed her fingers before groaning at the feeling of her mouth encompassing his nipple. She took just as much time as he had, covering his entire torso with kisses before reaching down and taking him in her hands. He bucked at the sensation and quickly changed their positions once more, kissing her on the cheek when she made a sound of disapproval.

He moved his head down between her legs and placed a kiss to each of her hipbones. He kissed all over her upper thighs before mouthing at her center, causing her to arch her back. He moved his tongue deftly throughout her folds, eliciting moans from her that grew louder and louder as he went on. In the middle of his administrations, however, he started to slow down, as if to take his time tasting her. She let out a quiet gasp, loving the feeling, and she reached as far down as she could to stroke through his hair. He smiled against her and moved back up to kiss her lips.

They continued to kiss and nuzzle each other a while, holding each other tightly all the time. However, Sherlock all of a sudden pulled away and looked into her eyes. His expression was unreadable, and Alexis was somewhat alarmed by it.

"Sherlock, what is it?" she asked, gently brushing the hair from his eyes.

He brought a hand up to stroke her cheek, a small smile forming on his face.

"It's you. It's always you."

A tear slid down the side of her face. "Sherlock…"

He leaned down and kissed her, gently pushing himself inside of her as he did. She whimpered slightly against his lips, pausing a moment as they both basked in the feeling of their connection. She moved a hand to the back of his head and smiled lovingly at him, he returning that smile as he slowly began to move inside of her. He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her against him, moving inside of her slowly but steadily. He wanted their love making to last as long as possible. It was important that it did, for both of them.

He kissed down to her neck as they continued to move together, moving his hand to the back of her head to bring her that much closer. She bit her lip as his hands threaded through her hair, and she brought his head back up to kiss her passionately. Through the kisses, they both began to breathe raggedly, not wanting to disconnect but their bodies becoming desperate for air. Sherlock moved himself farther into her, burying himself to the hilt. She gasped as his thrusts went deeper each time, and she was soon starting to feel her arousal climb. Sherlock could feel his as well, and he fought with himself as to whether or not he wanted it. He knew it couldn't last forever, but he always hoped for just another moment longer. He found himself grinding his hips against hers as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her pleasure undeniably escalating to its breaking point. Their kisses were wet and desperate now, but in one final thrust, Sherlock crushed his lips to Alexis's and they both reached their climax. Alexis ripped her mouth away to moan through the aftershocks, allowing Sherlock to bury his face in her neck. They remained like this for a moment, still locked together as their breathing slowed. Soon, Sherlock slowly pulled himself out of her and rolled onto his back, bringing her with him to lie on his chest.

They remained quiet like this until Alexis remembered the current situation. She leaned up on her elbow and looked into his eyes.

"What are you going to do?"

His contented expression faded into a solemn one. "Wait for the next step in Moriarty's game, I suppose. I've been forced into doing everything he's planned so far. It would be impossible to stop now."

"Do you know what the next step is?"

He stiffened. He knew very well what the next step was, but even if he wanted to tell her, he couldn't. And with what was to come, she was better off not knowing. For now.

He quickly shook his head and pressed a kiss to her hand. "I never intended for any of this to happen. I'm sorry."

"No, god no. Don't you dare apologize to me." She pulled her hand away and sat up, pulling the sheet over her. "You didn't ask for this, Sherlock, and you sure as hell don't deserve it! Moriarty is a psychopath. He's a monster! He considers you a challenge and a threat and he just wants you out of the picture! I hate him! I want him dead!"

Sherlock sat up, wrapping an arm around her and putting a finger under her chin. "Alexis, I need you to promise me something. Something very important, and I need you to do it right now."

"Anything. What?"

He sighed. "Moriarty has created a false identity for himself. He's made people believe that he is an actor, an actor named Richard Brook. This has proven successful, and it's made things that much more difficult."  
She shook her head slowly, and a few tears escaped her eyes. "What is he doing to us?"

"He's not doing it to us, he's doing it to me. Just as you said, he wants me out of the picture, and he will go to the ends of the Earth to do so. But I just need you to make me one promise."

"What, Sherlock?"

"I need you to be strong. What ever happens, whatever he does next…I need you to stay strong. I know you can do it, but I need to hear you say that you will."

She sniffled, choking on a sob as she frantically wiped away the tears. "Okay, I promise. I promise I'll be strong for you, Sherlock."

"Don't be strong for me. Be strong for yourself."

"Okay. God, I love you, Sherlock."

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for another kiss. He pulled her onto his lap and leaned up against the headboard, helping her wipe away a few stray tears.

"Sherlock, you have to know you aren't alone in this. You have me, of course. John definitely. Even Lestrade."

He held her tighter as he thought about her statement. "There's also Molly."

"Molly?"

"Yes. She told me something today…something that reminded me of you."

She pulled away slightly to look at him. "How so?"

"She told me that I looked…sad, that she could see that. She told me if there's anything I needed that she would help me. She also said she didn't count."

"How does that remind you of me?"

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You told me something a long time ago, that night at the college with the serial murderer. You said you cared about me, but that it didn't mean much coming from you. But it meant the world to me, Alexis."

She smiled sadly and rested a hand on his cheek. "Clearly I haven't given that girl enough credit."

"Neither have I."

She pulled him in for a hug and held him tightly. He kissed the side of her face as he ran a finger down her spine.

"You will be safe, Alexis. No matter what, I will not let him hurt you."

"Sherlock, I just want to make sure he doesn't hurt _you_."

"You can't worry about me."

"I can't _not _worry about you! Sherlock…I love you. You are my entire world."

He quickly pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "And you are mine as well. Just remember the promise. Please."

She lowered her head a bit, but he gently brought it back up to face him.

"Please, Alexis, it's important."

She exhaled. "I already promised. I won't break it."

"Good."

He moved them so they were both lying down once more, bringing the sheet to cover them.

"You need to sleep now."

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

He merely looked at her.

"Sherlock, please. I don't care if you're up and out of here at five, I want to see you before you leave."

He exhaled. "Alright."

She snuggled close to him, lying her head on his chest. "Good night, Sherlock."

"Good night, Alexis."

* * *

Sherlock kept his promise as well. A few hours later, once he was awake and dressed, he sat back down at the edge of the bed and pressed a kiss to Alexis's forehead. She woke up almost immediately, and he took her in his arms and kissed her more passionately than he ever had. They didn't pull away for moments, and even then, Sherlock had to keep his forehead pressed to hers.

"Keep me updated. Tell me where you are," Alexis told him.

"I will."

"I love you, Sherlock."

"I love you too, Alexis."

He pressed another kiss to her lips before getting up quickly and walking out of the room. He didn't dare look back, for he knew that they had just spent their last night together. And as he was climbing back out onto the fire escape, he found himself wiping a single tear from his eye.


	48. Chapter 47

_**Okay everyone, here we go… :(**_

_**A few more songs to describe Sherlock:**_

_**Superman by Five for Fighting (highly recommended, many lines describe him perfectly)**_

_**Losing You Memory – Ryan Star (found it in a Sherlock fan vid)**_

_**And for Alexis:**_

_**Tears of an Angel by RyanDan**_

_**I also have to recommend "Run" by either Snow Patrol or Leona Lewis. So perfect.**_

_**Milify-star: Thank you : ) **_

_**Black-Rose Marley: Awww! And yes, I am continuing this story. I wouldn't be able to wait for series three either! **_

_**FantasyBard: That means so much!**_

_**BeingHere: Awww! As sad as it is that you cried, it means a lot that I was able to touch your heart like that!**_

* * *

June 15, 2012

It was eleven a.m. Sherlock and John had been hiding out in one of the labs at Bart's when John got a call from paramedics. They told him Mrs. Hudson had been shot, and that she was dying. John told him this, but he refused to go with him. Instead, he rode it off by saying that she was simply his landlady and implied that he didn't care. John, confused and hurt, left to go and be with her. Two minutes later, Moriarty texted him.

**I'm waiting… - JM**

He put on his coat and scarf and walked up to the roof of the hospital. He found Jim Moriarty sitting on the ledge, looking out over the city as his infamous ringtone emanated from his phone. "Stayin' Alive". He realized now how clever it really was.

"Well," Moriarty began, pulling out his phone and balancing it on his hand. "Here we are at last. You and me, Sherlock. And our problem, the final problem…" He raised his phone high in the air. "Stayin' alive. So boring, isn't it?"

He slammed the phone shut, stopping the music.

"It's just…" He skimmed the air with his hand flat. "…staying."

Sherlock paced about the roof as he was going off, looking around at everything.

"All my life, I've been searching for a distraction and you were the best distraction and now I don't even have you," he continued, frustrated. "Because I've beaten you."

He stopped mid-stride and looked at him thoughtfully.

"And you know what? In the end, it was easy. It was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people. And it turns out you're ordinary, just like all of them." He held his arms out in the air, then wiped his face with his hand as if ashamed. "Oh well."

He rose from the ledge and walked towards Sherlock.

"Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?"

"Richard. Brook," Sherlock finally said, putting emphasis on each word.

"Nobody seems to get the joke. But you do."

"Of course."

"Attaboy." He paced slowly around him.

"Rich Brook in German is Reichenbach. The case that made my name."

"Just trying to have some fun," he said, imitating an American accent.

He looked down and noticed Sherlock tapping his fingers behind his back.

"Good. You got that, too."

"Beats like digits. Every beat is a one, every rest is a zero. Binary code. That's why all those assassins tried to save my life. It was hidden on me, inside my head. A few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system."

"Told all my clients; last one to Sherlock is a sissy."

Sherlock pointed to his head. "Yes, but now that it's up here, I can use it to alter all the records. I can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty." His tone was sinister but proud.

Moriarty stared at him a moment, then turned away and rubbed his eyes in frustration.

"No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy," he whined. "This is too easy. There is no key, DOOFUS!" He shouted this right in his face.

Sherlock remained still, his face still placid.

"Those digits are meaningless," Moriarty explained. "They're utterly meaningless. You don't really think a couple of lines of computer code are going to crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed. I'm disappointed in you. Ordinary Sherlock." He said the last sentence in a deep voice and stomped around ridiculously.

"But the rhythm-"

He spun around and threw his arms in the air. "_Partita No. 1. _Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach."

Sherlock was thoroughly confused now. "Then how did you-"

"Now, how did I break into the bank, to the Tower, to the prison? Daylight robbery. All it takes is some willing participants. I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness. You always want everything to be clever." He pointed at him accusingly as he walked over to the ledge. "Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building. Nice way to do it."

"Do it? Do…Do what?"

He had to think for a moment, and then it hit him. He turned to face the ledge once more. "Yes, of course. My suicide."

"Genius detective proved to be a fraud. I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairy tales."

Sherlock walked all the way to the ledge and slowly peeked over at the ground below.

"And pretty grim ones, too," Moriarty told him.

* * *

Alexis woke up a few hours after Sherlock left, her mind immediately beginning to race. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. There was nothing she _could _do.

After she showered and dressed, she decided she would go back to Baker Street. It was technically her home now, anyway, and she didn't have anywhere else to go.

When she arrived, she was greeted by the handyman who'd been working in the foyer for the past week. She merely gave him a slight wave before walking up to the living room, an uneasy feeling forming in her stomach. Everything looked completely normal, as if Sherlock and John had gone out for a case. However, this time, they wouldn't be back for tea.

She suddenly stopped dead in the kitchen doorway, that feeling in her stomach suddenly becoming more prominent. The pain soon turned to nausea, and she found herself running as fast as she could back to the bathroom. She practically threw herself on the floor as she lifted the toilet lid and vomited into the bowl. The heaving wracked through her body intensely, and as she threw up the last bit, she choked off on a sob. She shut the lid and grabbed a handful of toilet paper, wiping her eyes frantically as she cried. She slowly pulled herself up to sit on the closed lid and reached behind her to flush the toilet, leaning over as the tears fell shamelessly.

After five minutes, she walked over the sink and started to rapidly splash cold water on her face. She didn't want Mrs. Hudson to see that she'd been crying, or anyone for that matter. She wanted to show people that she was coping just fine. That she was staying strong…just like she'd promised.

Later on, around eleven thirty, she was sitting in the living room drawing in her sketchbook when she heard Mrs. Hudson talking down in the foyer. At first, she thought she was talking to the worker, but as she got up and walked closer to the staircase, she realized it wasn't him at all. It was John.

She raced down the stairs as Mrs. Hudson asked him about Sherlock.

"Is everything okay now with the police? Has, um, Sherlock sorted it all out?" she asked him fairly calmly.

John looked at her with an expression of both fear and confusion, but fear soon took over as he appeared to make a sudden realization.

"Oh my God," he breathed.

He bolted out the door and ran across the street to a parked cab. Alexis ran after him as fast as she could, being forced to stop by cars passing by.

"John!" she called as he rounded the cab. "What's going on? Where's Sherlock?"

"Bart's!" he yelled as he got into the cab. "Don't follow me!"

The cab pulled away, and she grunted loudly in frustration.

"Fuck that," she said fiercely, throwing out her arm to get the attention of a cab. Once she finally hailed one, she told the driver to take her as fast as he could to Bart's. The dangerous intensity of her voice convinced him it was important, and they were off.

* * *

Sherlock turned to face him, his tone serious and determined. "I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, just kill yourself, it's a lot less effort."

Sherlock turned away again, looking around frantically.

"Go on. For me. Pleeeeeease."

His voice went incredibly high pitched, and it was enough to make Sherlock cracked. He grabbed him by his coat collar and hung him out over the ledge.

"You're insane," he hissed.

"You're just getting that now?" Moriarty asked sarcastically.

He pushed him farther back, making him whoop loudly before pulling him back.

"Okay. Let me give you a little extra incentive."

Sherlock looked at him questioningly.

"Your friends will die if you don't."

His face dropped, a subtle look of fear taking the place of rage. "John?"

"Not just John. Everyone."

"Mrs. Hudson?"

"Everyone."

"Lestrade?"

"Three bullets, three gunmen, three victims, there's no stopping them now."

He continued to stare at this monster, then his eyes widened slightly. "Alexis."

He smirked. "Oh, I've got something extra special planned for Alexis. She doesn't just get shot. She gets a ride to a private location, in a nice car, of course. Once there, she'll be bound and gagged, and she'll be tortured for hours and hours until finally, when she's holding onto that teeny tiny final string of life, I walk in and deliver the final blow."

He gritted his teeth and pushed him even farther over the ledge.

"Unless you kill yourself, of course. Her grief would be more damaging than any torture I could inflict upon her. You know this, Sherlock."

Despite wanting to throw that monster over the edge right then and there, he knew he had to keep him alive. He yanked him back up and looked over the edge.

"You can have me arrested. You can torture me. You can do what you like with me. But nothing's going to prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends, and the love of your life, will die. Unless-"

"Unless I kill myself, complete your story."

"You've got to admit, that's sexier."

"And I die in disgrace."

"Of course, that's the point of this." He followed Sherlock's eyes down to the sidewalk. "Look, you got an audience now. Off you pop. Go on."

Sherlock stared down the building for another moment, then slowly took a step forward onto the ledge.

"I told you how this ends. Your death is the only thing that's going to call off the killers. I'm certainly not going to do it."

His breathing quickened as he continued to look out at the city, the fear within him slowly rising. He was truly becoming afraid now.

"Would you give me one moment, please?" Sherlock asked him, calming his voice as much as he could. "One moment of privacy. Please?"

He looked down at the ground and walked off. "Of course."

Sherlock struggled to maintain a clear mind. He could never think when he was afraid, or the slightest bit apprehensive. His mind began to race over the last few months, right up until when Moriarty just said "Of course." He went over their time on the roof so far again and again, and then it finally hit him. He raised his head and started to laugh in delight.

"What?" Moriarty asked, spinning around after having walked halfway across the roof.

Sherlock continued to laugh as he slowly turned around to face him.

"What is it? What did I miss?" His voice was demanding, yet desperate.

He hopped off of the ledge and strode towards him. "You're not going to do it? So the killers can be called off, then, there's a recall code or a word or a number. I don't have to die…_if I've got you_." He sang the last part, unable to help himself.

"Oh," he responded, smiling slightly. "You think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?"

"Yes. So do you."

"Sherlock, your big brother and all the kings horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to."

"Yes, but I'm not my brother, remember?" He leaned in close to his face as he said this, and his tone darkened. "I am you. Prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn. Prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in Hell? I shall not disappoint you."

Moriarty shook his head. "Nah. You talk big. Nah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary, you're on the side of the angels."

"Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them."

He studied his face more closely, and he came to a surprising realization. "No. You're not."

He blinked a few times, then looked back up at him and smiled. "I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me. You're me!" He laughed slightly, moving his face closer to Sherlock's. "Thank you…Sherlock Holmes."

He lowered his head and held out his hand. Sherlock looked down at it, then slowly reached out and shook it.

"Thank you. Bless you." He looked down at the ground briefly before looking back at him, his tone becoming serious now. "As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends. You have a way out… Well, good luck at that."

That was when it all fell apart. Out of nowhere, Moriarty pulled Sherlock closer to him, and he pulled out a gun from the back of his pants and pointed it in his mouth. Sherlock cried out and yanked himself away just in time for him to pull the trigger, sending his lifeless body to fall to the ground, an eerie smile left on his dead face. Sherlock watched as a trail of blood leaked from his skull, and his world became a blur. He spun around aimlessly as he struggled to find a rational thought, anything that could put him in control and possibly save his friends. But he couldn't think of anything. There was no solution, except to complete the last step of Moriarty's game.

He knew what he had to do.

* * *

John's phone rang in his pocket as he got out of the cab, throwing money at the driver before he headed toward Bart's. He pulled it out and saw that it was Sherlock.

"Hello?" he answered calmly.

"John," Sherlock said.

"Hey Sherlock, you okay?" He started jogging towards the building now.

"Turn around and walk back the way you came," he ordered.

"No, I'm coming in."

"Just do as I ask! Please."

John stopped dead in his tracks and looked around, turning back and walking to the sidewalk where the cab dropped him off. "Where?"

"Stop there."

"Sherlock?"

"Okay, look up, I'm on the rooftop."

He slowly turned and looked up at the roof of the hospital. Sherlock was standing up on the ledge once more.

"Oh, God."

"I…I…I can't come down, so we'll just have to do it like this," Sherlock told him, his voice shaky.

"What's going on?"

"An apology. It's all true."

"What?" John asked in disbelief.

"Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty." He looked down at Moriarty's corpse once more, the puddle of blood growing.

John paused a moment, looking up at his friend with fear and confusion. "Why are you saying this?"

Sherlock's lip began to tremble. "I'm a fake."

"Sherlock."

"The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade. I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson. And Molly. In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you…that I created Moriarty for my own purposes."

His confusion was slowly turning into anger. "Okay, shut up, Sherlock, shut up. The first time we met, the very first time we met, you knew all about my sister. Right?"

"Nobody could be that clever."

"You could."

He snickered, a tear sliding down his face. "I researched you. Before we met, I discovered everything that I could to impress you. It's a trick. Just a magic trick."

He shook his head angrily, and his voice cracked when he said, "No…alright, stop it now."

Sherlock sniffled as he thought of his next request. "And John…I want you to take care of Alexis. Tell her that despite everything, all the lies I've told…that I loved her with all my heart. That she was my world."

"Sherlock…I won't have to tell her that. I won't have to take care of her because you're coming down and coming home now!"

"No, John…I…I'm not."

He exhaled and started to walk back toward the hospital.

"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move," Sherlock ordered once more, sticking his arm out in front of him.

John put his hand up and backed up slowly. "Alright."

More tears slide silently down his face. "Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do this for me?"

"Do what?"

"This phone call, it's um…it's my note. It's what people do, don't they? Leave a note?"

John shook his head once more, holding the phone away from him briefly before asking, "Leave a note when?"

Just then, Alexis pulled up in a cab on the opposite side of the intersection. She threw her money at the driver and her eyes widened with fear when she spotted Sherlock up on the roof.

"What is he…?"

She pulled out her phone, attempting to call him, but just before she hit 'Send', her text alert went off. It was from him.

**I love you. – S**

She furrowed her brow at the text. What was going on?

Sherlock put his phone back to his ear after sending the text, having heard John call his name the entire time.

"Goodbye, John."

"No, don't." His voice was desperate, and his eyes went wide when he saw Sherlock toss his phone to the side.

"Sherlock!"

All Alexis could think of was getting to Sherlock, and as she started to run to the building, she witnessed the impossible.

Sherlock jumped from the roof of St. Bartholomew's Hospital.

"SHERLOCK NO!"

She watched helplessly for what seemed like an eternity as his body plummeted to the ground below and crashed onto the sidewalk.

Her entire world stopped, and she felt as though she was running in slow motion towards him. When she finally got to him, she screamed in horror as she looked upon his lifeless form lying in a pool of his blood. She dropped to her knees and grabbed at his legs, screaming even louder when she was grabbed by two nurses who worked at Bart's. They struggled to pull her away from him, as she was putting up the toughest fight of her life to get to the man she loved.

"Get off of me!" she shouted through her tears. "He's my boyfriend! He's my Sherlock!"

As they continued to pull her back, she realized that a crowd had formed around them. And in that crowd, up near Sherlock's head, was John. He looked as though he was trying to take his pulse, but they pulled him away, too. She screamed once more before giving up her struggle, and she watched helplessly as a group of doctors lifted Sherlock's body onto a gurney, rolling him quickly out of sight.

John had gotten up and made his way over to Alexis, gently pulling her away from the nurses and took her into his arms. He himself was in a state of shock, but he knew very well what had happened, and that Alexis needed him. She barely noticed that it was him as she buried her face in his chest, sobbing violently and digging her nails into his back. John himself was starting to cry as well, and he held his friend tightly to him.

And after five minutes of unrelenting sobs, Alexis looked up from John's chest and up to the roof of the hospital. That was the last place she would ever see Sherlock. The last place she would ever see the man she loved. Sherlock Holmes…was dead.


	49. Chapter 48

_**I'm getting more and more emotional as the chapters go on :.( Judging by the reviews, so are all of you. **_

_**Three more songs:**_

_**When You're Gone by Avril Lavigne**_

_**Memories by Within Temptation**_

_**Cry by James Blunt (this more describes Alexis and Gwen, especially during this hard time)**_

_**Topaz16: No, Alexis didn't hear the conversation. She just arrived really soon after Moriarty left. I kind of picture it as her cab pulling up as his was leaving, you know? & I appreciate the reviews for pretty much every chapter!**_

* * *

The taxi ride back to Sherlock's flat was quiet. Silent. And it wasn't a comfortable silence. It was an eerie silence. A dead silence. Alexis kept her eyes, raw and red from crying, fixed straight on the back of the seat ahead of her. John had been holding her hand the entire time, but she didn't notice. Neither did he.

When they pulled up to the flat, neither of them could move for a moment. Their throats became tight as they looked up at the building, and they only moved when the driver asked them if they were okay. He had seen the entire accident take place, which is why he didn't mind when they walked away without paying.

John held the front door open for Alexis, muttering something about talking to Mrs. Hudson before walking down the hall toward her flat. Alexis merely nodded before walking up the stairs to the living room, taking her time with each step so as to prolong the bitter reality. And just as she felt that morning, when she entered the living room, everything looked normal.

Except nothing was normal. Nothing would ever be normal again.

She walked to the center of the room and stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted something on the arm of the couch. Sherlock's red robe, lying in the most random place after he'd thrown it without caring. She kept her eyes fixed on it as she walked over to it, grabbing it and holding it tightly to her chest as she took a seat on the couch. She held it up to her nose, inhaling Sherlock's scent deeply. One of the last few traces of him, and she refused to ever let it go.

Out of the cold silence of the flat, she suddenly heard the heartbroken cries of Mrs. Hudson coming from downstairs. John had apparently gone to tell her what had happened, and the sound of her despair sent Alexis into a crying fit once more. For a number of minutes, she had her face buried in Sherlock's robe, drenching it with her tears as she pictured his fall over and over again.

Sherlock was dead. He was dead.

But what for?

Why?

She struggled to answer these questions in her head, but she could find no answer. Because there was no answer. This shouldn't have happened.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice John and Lestrade enter the flat at first. Only when the Inspector cleared his throat did she turn her head. The look on her face broke his heart.

"Alexis," he greeted, his voice low.

"Lestrade," she replied weakly, still gripping the robe.

He sighed, looking down at the floor. She watched as he stuck his hand into his coat pocket, and he walked over to her when he pulled it out. She stood up as he handed her the small, black object, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying.

"We found this on the roof, next to the body of Jim Moriarty."

He handed her Sherlock's blackberry, and she examined it closely for any signs of tampering. She looked up at him.

"You didn't search through it?"

"No. There was no need, as far as I could see."

"Hmm. A-and you said it was next to Jim Moriarty's body? He's…?"

"Yes. Shot himself."

"Jesus," John muttered to himself.

Alexis slowly nodded. "Right."

"Alexis, John…I'm so sorry." He lowered his eyes.

Alexis took a deep breath and walked back to the bedroom. "Thank you for bringing this back, Lestrade. It was very considerate."

Her last word broke off on a sob, and she ran down the hallway and slammed the door behind her.

John and Lestrade stood together in silence for a moment, then John thought of something.

"You, uh, you said that the phone was next to Jim Moriarty's body," he said quietly. "You didn't think he was Richard Brook?"

"Not for a second." He walked back to the doorway, turning around to say, "Take care of yourself, John. And Alexis, too."

"I will."

He nodded, and walked out of the flat.

John remained in his place near the door, completely unsure of what to do with himself. If he went downstairs, he would see Mrs. Hudson crying. If he went back to the bedroom, he would see Alexis crying. He knew he was supposed to comfort both of them, but at that moment, not even an hour after his best friend's death, he couldn't bring himself to be the strong one. He was grieving, too.

Not two minutes later, Alexis stormed out of the bedroom to find John sitting in his chair, looking sadly over at Sherlock's. He turned his head when one of her steps made the floorboard squeak. They locked their gaze for a moment, and John knew what he wanted to say.

"He said he was a fake," he said, his voice croaky.

She winced, a silent way of telling him to explain further.

"He called me on the phone, when he was up on that rooftop, and told me that he invented Mor… him. He said the newspapers were right, that he was a fake."

"He was lying," she told him quietly.

"I know." He slowly got up and walked over to her. "He wanted you to know that he loved you. He always loved you, Alexis."

Her face remained placid. "Then why did he leave me?"

"…I don't know."

"We never will."

A single tear rolled down her cheek, and he pulled her into a hug.

Alexis dreamed about Sherlock that night. More than once. First, they were having tea at Maison Bertaux, and she listened as he discussed his latest case in great detail. Next, they were at a crime scene, and she stood off to the side with John as he examined the body of a dead man; one who looked startlingly similar to Moriarty. And finally, they were making love in his bed, holding each other close as they moaned aloud from the pleasure. In the middle of it, however, Sherlock kept repeating the words "Wake up" over and over again. It wasn't until she opened her eyes and looked over at his side of the bed that she realized what it meant.

She went out to the couch and cried herself to sleep.

* * *

June 16, 2012

Mycroft arranged a private funeral for Sherlock the next day, and other than himself, John, Alexis, and Mrs. Hudson, only Molly and Lestrade came. Each person got up and said a few words about Sherlock, and what was said was both loving and true. Alexis and Mycroft were the only two to remain silent during the service. Alexis, because she could barely utter a syllable without crying; and Mycroft, because, well, he was a Holmes.

Alexis couldn't help but notice how John acted around Mycroft. She expected to him to be less than social, of course, but something wasn't right. He almost seemed angry with him. Just before they took Sherlock's body out to the graveyard, she pulled him aside and asked him about it. And after insisting he tell her over and over again, he finally caved, and she wished she'd kept her mouth shut.

She walked right up to Mycroft and slapped him in the face.

After they lowered Sherlock's casket into the ground, Alexis couldn't stand to be there anymore and left, heading straight to Gwen's flat. Gwen had heard what happened the previous night and told Alexis to stay with her for a while. She couldn't refuse, as spending any amount of time in 221B without Sherlock was heartbreaking.

"More tea?" Gwen offered, holding up the teapot.

She shook her head. "No thanks."

She poured herself another cup before sitting back down next to Alexis. "That dress looks great on you," she told her, forcing half a smile.

"Thank you. Sherlock like it, too."

Gwen frowned, silently cursing herself. "I just don't know what to say, Alexis. I can't tell you how sorry I am."

She took hold of her hand. "I am, too. For a lot of things."

"Like?"

"For ever fighting with him, like we did in December where I left him for a week. That was precious time wasted. For ever going to far with teasing him or joking with him. That probably did damage somewhere deep down. For ever doubting his plans or motives in a case because he always solved whatever was offered to him! And I'm sorry for obviously not loving him enough because, maybe if he knew how much I loved him, he wouldn't have killed himself!"

She burst into tears once more, burying her face in her hands and doubling over on the couch. Gwen wrapped her arms around her and pulled her up to lean against her, stroking her hair gently.

"He knew, Alexis. He knew."

She said nothing and continued to cry in her friend's arms.

* * *

Later that day, the two of them went back to Baker Street to collect Alexis's things. It took them longer than expected, as Alexis got emotional every time she saw something of Sherlock's lying around the flat; and he was never one to pick up after himself, so this occurred often. It even came to the point where Alexis insisted on gathering what she had from the bedroom on her own. And when she went to put the last item in her suitcase, she looked back at the open wardrobe which held all of Sherlock's dress clothes. She quickly grabbed one of his white shirts and laid it on top of everything else.

When she walked back out to the living room, wheeling her suitcase behind her, she found Gwen talking with John on the couch. He'd been out God knows where since the funeral earlier that day, and he looked just as bad as she did. They both stood up when they saw her approach.

"I'll take that suitcase out to the cab for you," Gwen offered, walking over and taking it from her.

"Thanks. I'll be out in a minute, okay?"

She nodded. "Of course."

She and John watched her until she disappeared down the stairs, stepping closer to one another when they heard the front door shut.

"So…you're leaving, then," John said.

She reached out and took hold of his hand. "I can't stay here anymore, John. It's too painful."

"I know. I'm moving out, too. Heading back to my old place." He glanced around the flat, tightening his lips. "God, we had some times here, didn't we?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we did."

He sighed and pulled her in for another hug. "Let's not be strangers, okay?"

"God, no," she whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. "I would never let that happen. You mean too much to me."

He half smiled. "Likewise, Alexis. And listen," He pulled away to look into her eyes, rubbing her arm gently. "I'm sorry about the whole thing with Mycroft. I really shouldn't have told you, but-"

"It's okay, John. I needed to know. Sooner rather than later."

She stepped away from him and grabbed her purse from the table. "I'll need some time, John, so you might not hear from me for a while. Weeks, at least."

"I understand. You just take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah. I will. I promised him I would. I promised him I'd be strong."

"Good. I know you will be."

She smiled sadly, walking over and hugging him tightly once more. "Bye, John."

He exhaled. "Bye now, Alexis."

She pulled away and kissed him on the cheek, walking backwards slowly until she reached the doorway. She took one last look at the flat, feeling her throat start to tighten, and then she walked down the stairs and out of 221B Baker Street.

* * *

June 18, 2012

Two days after the funeral, John and Mrs. Hudson were in a cab on their way to visit Sherlock's grave. They were both silent from the moment they got into the vehicle, and neither of them spoke again until they were standing in front of his tombstone.

"There's all of this stuff. All the science equipment," she told him. "I left it all in boxes. I don't know what needs doing. I thought I'd take it to a school." She looked up at him hopefully. "Would you…?"

"I can't go back to the flat again. Not at the moment," he said, politely but painfully.

She looked at him sadly and locked her arm with his.

"I'm angry," he told her.

"It's okay, John. There's nothing unusual in that. That's the way he made everyone feel. All the marks on my table and the noise. Firing guns at half past one in the morning."

"Yeah."

"Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine, keeping bodies where there's food."

"Yes."

"And the fighting. Drove me up the wall with all his carryings on." Her voice was starting to crack. John leaned over slightly, patting her hand.

"Yeah, listen, I'm not actually that angry, okay?" he said, trying to calm her.

"Okay, I'll leave you alone to, you know…"

She turned and walked away from him, crying silently as he went. He watched her for a little bit, then turned back to Sherlock's grave and straightened up.

"Um…" He had trouble speaking at first, feeling his emotions welling up inside of him. He took a moment and started up again.

"You…you told me once…that you weren't a hero. Um…There were times I didn't even think you were human but let me tell you this, you were the best man and the most human…human being that I've ever known and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, so…there."

He sighed, feeling his throat tighten a bit. He walked closer to the gravestone, resting his hand on top of it. "I was so alone…and I owe you so much. And you didn't help just me. You helped Alexis, too. She loved you, mate, and you loved her. You were the best to her, as well."

He took a deep breath and walked away from the grave, only to quickly turn back.

"Oh, please, there's just one more thing, right? One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be…" His voice cracked, and tears filled his eyes. "…dead. Would you do that, just for me, just stop it? Stop this?"

He took a deep breath, lowering his head and covering his face with his hand as he cried silently. He remained like this for a moment, then wiped his eyes and took one last look at the grave. He nodded once before turning on his heel and walking away swiftly.

If only he knew that someone had been listening to his prayers. That the miracle he desperately hoped for had come true. That his best friend, Sherlock Holmes, stood just yards away from him in the cemetery, and had heard every word he'd said.

If only.

* * *

That night, Alexis had turned in early, and Gwen was out in her living room talking on the phone with her boyfriend. She was telling him all about what happened, and just as he was telling her what a shame the whole thing was, she heard something. It was coming from down the hall.

"Er, Ben, I'm going to turn in for the night. I'll call you tomorrow, alright, love?"

_"Of course. Good night, Gwen."_

"Good night."

She put down her phone and walked down the hall, following the noise all the way to Alexis's room. She carefully pushed the door open and poked her head in, and her heart sank when she found her lying in bed, crying into her pillow. Saying nothing, she walked into the room and climbed onto the bed, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. Alexis flinched at first, but quickly adjusted to her friend's presence and took her hand. She continued to cry softly, and Gwen stayed with her until she drifted off to sleep, not wanting her to be alone.


	50. Chapter 49

_**Two chapters in one day!**_

_**A few more songs:**_

_**My Immortal by Evanescence**_

_**Time Stood Still by Madonna**_

_**My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion**_

_**Black-Rose Marley: Awww. & John was still mad about how Mycroft gave Sherlock's life story to Moriarty in the episode.**_

_**Midnight Angel414: Thank you, I could never take John's cemetery scene out. It always leaves me emotional, especially when he says, "I was so alone, and I owe you so much." :.(**_

* * *

July 9, 2012

Alexis's days blurred together. For the next three weeks, she hardly left Gwen's flat. She didn't bother to call the Gallery; she figured everyone, even Dr. McPhee, knew what happened. She cried almost daily, and if she wasn't doing that, she was probably throwing up. Gwen was getting more and more worried about her, so much to the point that she actually called John to see if he could help. She just didn't know what to do.

"_Shit, that bad, eh?_" he asked Gwen.

"It's heartbreaking, John," she said, talking quietly so Alexis didn't hear her from the bedroom. "I don't think the vomiting is normal, though."

"_Maybe not. Listen, is she around?_"

"Yeah, she's in the bedroom. I don't know if she's sleeping, though."

"_Let me talk to her. I just got a job at a surgery, and if I can convince her, I'll give her the once over. See if anything serious is wrong with her; besides the grief._"

"Sure, just a minute."

She walked down the hall to her room and knocked on the door, pushing it open slightly to find her sitting up in bed.

"Hey," Gwen greeted.

"Hi. What time is it?" she asked drowsily.

"Er…about noon."

She rolled her eyes. "I guess I've slept later."

She nodded. "Oh, um, John's on the phone. He'd like to talk to you, if you're up for it."

"Sure."

She handed her the phone and promptly left the room. Alexis waited until the sound of her footsteps faded before she put the phone to her ear.

"Hi, John."

"_Hey. How've you been?_"

She sniggered. "Do you even need to ask?"

He sighed. "_Yeah, uh, Gwen mentioned you haven't been feeling very well. Vomiting a lot, have you?"_

She paused a moment, making a mental note to tell Gwen not to tell others about her business.

"A bit, yeah."

He cleared his throat. "_Listen, Alexis, I was just hired by a new surgery, different from the one I worked at last year, obviously, and if you're comfortable, I could take a look and see if there's anything wrong. Or you could schedule an appointment with someone else here, but that could take weeks. It-It just sounds like you're not doing as well as you could be. Physically."_

She bit her lip. She knew this was coming, and she couldn't fight it anymore.

"Actually, John, there is something you could do for me. I don't think I need an actual physical, but there is something kind of important I'd like to get straightened out."

"_What do you need me to do, Alexis?"_

She took a deep breath. "A pregnancy test."

* * *

She hardly breathed the entire time she sat in John's office. He told her it would take about an hour to get the results back, and it was starting to feel like the longest hour she'd ever experienced.

What was she going to do if she was pregnant? The baby wouldn't have a father, and she knew she wouldn't be able to do it on her own. And if she did have a baby inside of her, she wouldn't be surprised if her grieving did it damage. She knew that there was a slim chance of her being positive, that she would have had to be at least a month along for it to be possible, but she couldn't explain the vomiting any other way. She needed to be sure.

John finally came back into his office, a few papers in his hands. The fact that his expression was unreadable unnerved her even more, and she gripped her knees when he sat down at his desk and took a deep breath.

"The tests came back negative, Alexis," he told her calmly. "You're not pregnant."

She closed her eyes and exhaled. "Good. Good, that's, um…that's for the best. Thank you for doing that."

"Of course."

"So…why am I vomiting so much, then? It's obviously not morning sickness."

"No, it's not." He folded his hands and leaned forward slightly. "Alexis, you've been through so much, and it's put you under a lot of stress. Stress and anxiety can cause vomiting, among other things. I know it's going to be hard, but you need to try and-"

"Feel better?"

He sighed, but she immediately raised her hands so as to back off.

"No, I know what you're saying, John. I know I can't keep doing this to myself. I've barely left Gwen's flat since it happened. I've cried almost every day, and the vomiting has been happening at least two or three days a week." She started to feel tears welling up in her eyes, and her throat was tightening. "But I can't just move on."

"I know." He walked around his desk and sat in the chair next to her, moving it closer to her. "I can't, either. I only took this job because I need the money, and I need to keep my mind busy."

"I'm not even sure if _I_ still have a job."

He took her hand. "I'm sure you do. I mean, that curator raves about you, and look at that bonus you got back in March."

She half smiled. "Well, I'll go back in two weeks and find out my status. I want to wait until after the nineteenth."

"Why the nineteenth?"

The tears were stinging her eyes now, and she had to look up at the ceiling briefly to keep them from escaping. "Um…well…it would have been his birthday. His thirty-forth."

He shut his eyes and lowered his head. "Right."

She bit her lip, trying her best not to dwell on it as she thought of a way to change the subject. "And, erm, as far as that bonus, I haven't even used any of it yet. I need to save up for a new flat. I can't live with Gwen forever."

"Right, I get that."

They were both silent for a moment, each trying to get control of their emotions, as well as struggling to figure out what to say next.

"John, did I ever tell you where I went after the trial?" she asked him out of the blue.

It took him a moment to realize what she meant, and he looked at her with curiosity. "No, actually."

She looked down at her lap. "I went to the Bunhill Fields cemetery. The place where my family is buried…and now, Sherlock is buried." She paused a moment before continuing. "I went to see my grandmother's grave. I talked to her…well, in a way…"

"Yeah, I get you."

"I, um…I talked to her about the trial. Told her everything that happened with…him, going all the way back to the bomb victims, and then my whole ordeal. I also said something else…something that's really starting to freak me out now." Her lips started to tremble, and a few tears rolled down her cheeks.

John grabbed a tissue from his desk and handed it to her. "What did you tell her?"

She couldn't help but let out a quick sob, wiping her eyes before she said, "I-I told her that the whole thing was really scaring me, and…"

He lowered his head to look into her eyes. "And what, Alexis?"

"And…and that I was afraid that Sherlock was going to die."

She burst into tears right then, and John went to pull her into a hug. However, she shoved him off of her and ran from his office, sobbing the whole way and not caring who saw. He tried calling her name as he walked out into the hallway, but it was no use. She was on the elevator before he could take another step. He walked back into his office and shut the door, buzzing the intercom to tell the receptionist not to send in anymore patients for a while. He needed to pay another visit to the Bunhill Fields cemetery.

* * *

Alexis was relieved when she got back to the flat and found that Gwen had gone to work. She immediately started sobbing once more, tossing her purse to the side as she fell to her knees in the living room. She wrapped her arms around herself and threw her head back, screaming her pain to the room surrounding her. Only when she thought she heard footsteps outside the flat did she final quiet herself. She lowered her head down almost to the carpet and breathed deeply.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Sherlock. I'm not…" She briefly choked off on a sob before continuing. "I'm not keeping my promise. I'm not being strong for you."

She wiped her eyes and slowly rose from the ground, sobbing more quietly as she walked back to her room. When she got there, she went straight for the top drawer of the dresser and tore through her things until she found what she was looking for. Sherlock's phone. She sat down on the bed and pressed the phone to her lips, then held it tightly to her chest.

"I'm going to do better, I promise. I'll make you proud of me."

* * *

July 23, 2012

Things did get somewhat better since that day. When Sherlock's birthday came around, Alexis did get quite emotional, but she got through it without crying herself to sleep that night.

The twenty-third soon came around, and that was the day Alexis decided she would go back to work. Rather, she would go to the Gallery dressed in what she usually wore to work to see if she still had a job. Her heart had been beating rapidly in her chest from the moment she woke up to the moment she walked out into the kitchen. Gwen was already awake, and she looked at her knowingly.

"Big day?" she guessed, smirking at her.

"Yeah. I'm just trying to mentally prepare myself for the moment Dr. McPhee tells me I'm fired." She tried to make her tone sound light-hearted, but she couldn't hide her nerves. Not even from Gwen.

"If that man has even one brain cell, he will realize that you are too good to give up, Lex. It's going to be just fine." She got up from her chair and walked over to her, rubbing her arm gently. "You've been through a lot. They can't be completely heartless."

Alexis smiled and hugged her friend, exhaling deeply. "Wish me luck, Gwen."

"You won't need it." She pulled away and gestured towards the door. "Now, go on. Off you go!"

She couldn't help but giggle as she walked out the door. "Bye, Gwen."

She stopped for a quick breakfast before getting on a bus to the Gallery. At first, she didn't think she'd be able to keep down her bagel with all her nerves acting up, but somehow, when the bus pulled up to the Gallery, she had a sudden burst of confidence and pushed the uneasiness aside. She made the long trek up the stairs to the Gallery, pushed open the front doors, and walked into the building like she owned the place.

However, as soon as her foot touched the floor, she was back to sensing her breakfast again.

Almost every employee stared at her, their looks a combination of confusion and curiosity. She'd never felt smaller in her entire life, and she forced herself to fix her eyes straight ahead of her as she made her way back to Dr. McPhee's office. Just as she was about to enter his office, she closed her eyes and thought of Sherlock.

"This is for you, my love," she whispered.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

_"Yes? Come in." _She heard, and she took hold of the handle and slowly pushed the door open. Dr. McPhee's eyes widened a bit, and he immediately stood up.

"Alexis, I didn't expect to see you," he said, his face virtually emotionless.

It suddenly felt as if she had a frog in her throat. "Yes, Dr. McPhee, I, er…I apologize for not having called. It's just, well…well, you've probably read the papers."

"I have." He took off his glasses and walked around his desk, standing about a foot away from her. "And I am truly sorry for what's happened."

She nodded, a bit more quickly than she expected to. "Thank you, Dr. McPhee."

"I suppose I just didn't expect to see you back so soon."

"Yes, well, it's been over a month, and I can't just sit around and mourn forever, can I? Even if I wanted to."

He lowered his head. "And I suppose you came here to…inquire about your job, here at the Gallery?"

"I did, sir."

"Well," he began, clearing his throat, "we've just received two new Orpen portraits that will need to be restored. Seeing as though you are one of our best, I'll have you oversee the process so as to have them ready for display by the end of the month."

She smiled, gasping in delight. "Thank you, Dr. McPhee."

He returned the smile, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Alexis, let me make myself clear about something. You have worked for this Gallery for five years now, and I can tell you in great confidence that you are one of the finest employees this establishment has ever had. You are invaluable to us, and we would never turn you away, especially after having lost someone so dear to you."

"I appreciate, sir. Very much. I-I'm not sure how you feel about whatever it is you've read about-"

He held up his hand. "It's irrelevant what I, or anyone else, thinks of the situation. All that matters is that we have you back working for the Gallery."

She nodded respectfully.

"Well, the portraits are in Restoration Room B. Best get to it."

"Right away, Dr. McPhee."

She turned on her heel and walked out of his office, unable to keep a proud smile off of her face as she went off to do her job. Just as she always did. Just as she always would.

* * *

July 28, 2012

Alexis and Gwen had been out all day looking for a new flat for Alexis. They traveled all over the city, took every form of transportation offered, and yet they found nothing. If it wasn't one thing, it was something else. Bad area, high rent, unpleasant neighbors, even structural issues with a few places. They were striking out, and it was making Alexis extremely frustrated.

The two of them ordered Chinese take out, as they had no energy to make anything. They sat on the floor of the living room, both of their minds racing as they tried to figure out what their next move would be. However, truth be told, Gwen was more focused about it than Alexis; Alexis was too mentally and physically drained to do anything but eat at that point.

"Look here, there are places in Havering and Sutton we haven't looked at," Gwen told her as she looked through a newspaper.

"Too far. I'd prefer something in Westminster or areas close to it."

"Well we've tried Alexis. There's just nothing." She started to skim further through the paper, then she suddenly perked up. "Well, is Baker Street still-?"

"No, Gwen. You know I can't go back there."

"Not even in that little basement apartment? I heard the landlady just had it re-done."

"I know, Mrs. Hudson called me earlier this week. But I can't, Gwen. That's why I left in the first place. That's why I'm here now."

She got up and walked into the kitchen to throw out the empty food carton. She could hear Gwen sighing from the other room, and it made her feel a bit guilty. All she was doing was trying to help, but the lack of decent flats left both of them on edge.

"We'll find one though," Alexis quickly reassured her. "Even if I have to deal with a few creepy neighbors or rent slightly above budget, I'll find a flat within a week or two."

"You know, you don't have to rush out right away," Gwen said, getting up and walking to the counter across from her. "You can stay here as long as you need to. I've told you this from the start."

"I know, Gwen. You don't know how much it's meant to me, you opening your home to me…but I have to move on at some point."

She nodded. "I know."

Gwen smiled and pulled her into a tight hug. She refused to let go of her friend for a while, which gave Alexis the opportunity to remember something. Something important, and eerily relevant at that moment.

_"You don't need to rush out of here, Alexis. You've only just arrived, and I want you to be able to slowly adjust to the changing times. It's a new life for you. Make the right decisions, and move on only when you're ready."_

Her eyes went wide, and she gently pushed her friend away.

"Er, Gwen, there's something I need to do right now. I think you've just helped me figure out what my next step is!"

"And that would be…?"

Alexis merely kissed her friend on the cheek and grabbed her purse on her way out the door.

"Don't wait up!" she called back.


	51. Chapter 50

_**Sorry I didn't upload yesterday! I was out most of the day (work, blah) & then my dad got a hold of the movie "The Hunger Games", so the sound of that erupted through the whole house. Needless to say, I couldn't really focus, so here it is today after a day of relaxation and concentration.**_

_**If you would like to know what Miss Abernathy looks like, look up actress Julia McKenzie. If it helps, she plays Miss Marple in the Marple T.V. movies. (Benedict Cumberbatch starred in one of them ;) )**_

_**And just so everyone knows, I am continuing this story after Reichenbach! I'm not waiting till season 3 for Sherlock to come back! I am making up my own material from here on out!**_

_**Aussieflower: Wow! You have reviewed every chapter! I love it! Thank you so much for all the compliments! And regarding your comment about Irene Adler, I understand where you're coming from. I definitely made Gwen view her as a whore, being the forever-dedicated best friend to Alexis. And yes, Alexis did kind of view her that way as well, at least at first, but I think (at least in my mind) that once she had the realization about her being Sherlock's equal, it changed to her just being a general threat. Or something like that. I hope you don't get all depressed from the crying, more is to come. More as in better!**_

_**Black-rose Marley & Milify-star: Yeah, I've been wanting to put in a pregnancy scare, but not an actual pregnancy, and I soon realized that this would be a good place to put it. I say "good"…**_

_**TheGirlWhoImagined: Lol well I usually get into this zone and I just pop out chapter after chapter. And thank you very much!**_

_**Jezzicadixon: Thank you so much!**_

_**Midnight Angel414: No, you're fine! I don't think anyone could see what's coming. They'd have to practically read my mind!**_

* * *

_"Now, mind you, it's not quite the largest flat in London, but it will do for the two of us until you find a place of your own. Not that I'm expecting you to move out any time soon, of course."_

_ "It's beautiful, Grandma. I really appreciate you letting me stay with you."_

_ "It's no trouble, my dear. In fact, it's a privilege."_

From the outside, the building hadn't appeared to have changed much at all. The bricks were still their rich maroon color, and they'd only just begun to look aged. The silver knocker on the landlady's front door still remained, even with the little owl attached to it. Alexis took a deep breath as she beat the knocker three times, still hoping this wouldn't be a mistake.

A moment later, a little old woman answered the door and smiled. Miss Abernathy.

"Yes? Can I help you dear?" she greeted politely.

"Um, yes, ma'am. Forgive me for it being late, but you see, I lived here with my grandmother about eight years ago. I'm not sure you would remember. Her name was Claire Gilmore?"

Miss Abernathy thought for a moment, then gasped in delight.

"Oh, my dear, of course I remember! Claire was a dear friend of mine, and you're her granddaughter Alexis! Please, come in!"

She ushered her into the flat and escorted her into her living room.

"Have a seat, please," she told her, gesturing to the tan couch in the middle of the room. "Would you like a drink? Tea, perhaps?"

"That would be lovely, thank you Miss Abernathy."

She smiled and scurried off to the kitchen. Alexis looked around the flat and immediately recognized everything. She and her grandmother had been invited to Miss Abernathy's flat frequently. Though it was never said, she was convinced that she and her grandmother were her favorite tenants.

Alexis could hear her bustling about in the kitchen, as well as a lot of metallic clanging. She rose from the couch and took a few steps forward.

"Would you like any help, Miss Abernathy?" she asked, peeking around into the kitchen.

"Oh, no thank you, dear. I may be a bit clumsy, but I still know how to make a decent pot of tea. You just sit down and relax. It shouldn't be too much longer."

She obliged and sat back down, and not ten minutes later did she emerge from the kitchen with the tea on a silver tray. She took a seat on the couch opposite her and poured her a cup.

"If I remember correctly, you take quite a bit of sugar in your tea," Miss Abernathy told her, holding up and shaking a few sugar packets.

"I do, though I've narrowed it down from about six to three packets."

Miss Abernathy smiled. "It's good to see that you're making healthier choices, dear."

Alexis nodded, mixing in the sugar and taking a sip.

"So, Alexis, what brings you by this evening?" she asked her, taking a sip of her own tea. "It's been, what, five years since I last saw you?"

"Yes, it has. That was when…Claire passed."

She lowered her head. "Yes, I remember."

"I meant to come visit," she told her quickly. "I really did, but it was just too painful to come back here so soon. And then, I never came back at all. I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be, dear. I understand perfectly. I've had my share of grief in my life, just as you have. It affects us all in our own way."

"I know." She looked down at her cup, resting it on the saucer and putting it back on the table. "I just lost my boyfriend about a month ago."

Miss Abernathy looked at her sadly. "Oh, dear, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

She bit her lip. "Well, did you ever hear of Sherlock Holmes?"

"The detective? _He _was your boyfriend?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, I'd read about his cases here and there. I did hear about his death, as well. Oh Alexis, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, thanks."

Miss Abernathy leaned forward slightly. "I want you to know that I don't believe the papers. I don't believe that man ever lied about the cases he solved."

Alexis raised her head and looked at her in awe. "Really?"

"Of course! That man did amazing things, good things. I can't imagine him having anything to do with that Jim Moriarty. And I don't believe for one second that that man was an actor, either."

She smiled, only able to nod at first, as her throat was getting tight.

"Thank you, Miss Abernathy. I'm glad to see that some people weren't taken in by the lie. You appear to be one of the only smart people left these days."

"Oh, well, I just know what the truth is when I see it."

"So did he, but he still wanted me to believe that he was a fake. Me and John and everyone else. Oh, John Watson was the doctor that, sort of, tagged along with him. He-"

"I know, dear." She smiled politely at her.

"Anyway, to get to the reason why I'm actually here. I know that this is going to be a long shot, but I was wondering if Claire's old flat was possibly available. I've been living with my best friend for weeks now, and I don't want to inconvenience her anymore, even if she says I'm not."

Miss Abernathy put down her cup. "The two of you lived in flat 9, correct?"

"Yes."

"Of course. Well, almost as soon as you moved out, a young married couple moved right in. Oh, they were an absolute delight, and they've just recently had a baby."

Her face dropped, and she did little to try and hide it. "Oh yes?"

"Yes, a little boy." She suddenly smiled widely at her. "They moved out almost a month ago. I haven't had any inquiries since."

"Oh!" She was taken aback by her statement, and she giggled nervously. "Well, that's er…"

"Alexis." Miss Abernathy reached out and took her hand. "I would be honored to have you live in that flat again."

Alexis smiled gratefully. "You don't know what this means to me. Thank you so much."

"It's my pleasure. Now, when can you move in?"

"Tomorrow. First thing."

"I look forward to it, dear."

"So do I."

* * *

July 29, 2012

Alexis was all moved in to her new flat by noon. Gwen had helped her pack and get situated, and after an almost tearful good-bye, Alexis was sitting in the living room having tea. She couldn't help but observe every inch of the room, as every small detail had a fond memory attached to it.

For example, there was a small groove in the wooden floor just in front of the living room window. It had gotten there when Alexis was painting on her easel one day and the leg accidentally gave out, driving the groove deep into the floorboard. She'd been terrified, figuring her grandmother was going to yell at her; and when Claire yelled, though it wasn't often, it wasn't a pretty sight. However, when she arrived home later that day, she didn't even frown. For how apologetic Alexis was, Claire could see that it was clearly an accident. She was a fair woman. She was a good woman.

Alexis finished her tea and walked into the kitchen to wash out the pot and her cup. Just as before, her eyes wandered and so did her mind. She thought about Claire's delicious pork roast that they ate every Friday, never having skipped a week. This thought brought to mind the day of her funeral, though, because even then, Alexis made the pork roast. Despite her having passed on earlier that week, she wanted to keep the tradition alive; in a way, it was also to keep Claire alive as well.

She also remembered that she wasn't the only one to eat that particular pork roast. Someone else who'd attended her funeral joined her that day.

It got Alexis thinking, and then it made her do something she hadn't done in a long time.

She walked back into the living room and picked up her phone. She slowly typed in the phone number, being deliberate and precise with each individual digit. After staring at the number for about a minute, she took a deep breath and pressed "Send".

Much to her dismay, as well as great relief, the call went to voicemail after six rings. She listened as the voicemail message played in her ear, and, after a long pause and another deep breath, she left her message.

"Hey…it's Alexis. It's, uh, I know it's been a long time…and I know that it's really odd that I'm calling you right now…but I just wanted to see how you were. How life has been…for you. Things have been pretty, um…interesting, over here. I doubt you've heard anything, news-wise, I mean, about London, which is okay, I mean…" She bit her lip. She had no idea where she was going with this. "Anyway, like I said, I was just calling to see how you were. Hope things are well. I'll, um…see you."

She ended the call and tossed the phone on the couch, plopping onto the cushion beside it. She grabbed one of the throw pillows and cradled it to her chest, her anxiety growing as she thought about the consequences that message would bring.

* * *

August 8, 2012

Alexis was walking out of the Gallery to go on her lunch break when she spotted Jesse giving the first Guided Tour of the day. He was now the primary tour guide for that particular tour, she only having been giving it once a week for the past few weeks. She didn't mind much, however, as he was just as good as she was and she figured it was time for a change.

She was about to exit the room when Jesse called her name.

"Alexis, just one moment!" he announced, quietly telling the tour he'd be with them in just a moment. He appeared to be visibly nervous as he approached her.

"Hey," was all he could manage.

"Hi Jesse," she replied, smiling politely. "How goes the tour?"

"Er, good! Really an attentive bunch this time. Hell of a lot better than the group of secondary school kids who snickered every time they saw a somewhat revealing painting."

She rolled her eyes. "And it takes all you've got in you not to reach out smack the crap out of them, right?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, definitely." He looked down at his feet, rocking back and forth on them a bit before he continued. "So, I haven't seen much of you since you came back."

"Yeah, well, they've been putting me to work in Restoration, and I've had to make up pamphlets for the new showpieces coming in. It's hard work, but I love it."

"I know you do."

He took a step closer to her and lowered his head a bit.

"Listen…I don't think I ever told you…I'm sorry about Sherlock. I-I know he meant a lot to you."

She nodded. "Yes, he did. I loved him. And thank you, Jesse. That means a lot."

"Of course, and I know I've asked you this before, and I'm not even sure you would want to, but…if you're ever up for lunch, I'm free."

She exhaled, and when she went to initially respond, he cut her off.

"And I just want you to know something, Alexis. I wouldn't consider it to be a date or anything. I'm not going to deny that I would have before, but with everything that's happened, and a little personal soul-searching, I wouldn't do that to you now. I'm not that much of a creep."

She smiled, and she reached out and touched his arm. "I know, Jesse. I never thought that. And I would lo-"

Alexis stopped mid-sentence and looked past Jesse. There was a woman standing two rooms over, dressed in black and typing away on her phone. She stared at her for a moment, unable to get past the nagging sensation that told her she looked familiar.

Then, all at once, it hit her.

"Jesse, I have to go," she quickly told him, brushing past him and heading for the doorway. But just as the woman turned around and started to walk away, she stopped and turned on her heel. "And I'll let you know when I'm available, okay?"

He smiled. "Great."

She put her thumb up. "Good."

When she turned around, the woman had disappeared, and she knew her best bet was to head out of the Gallery and into Trafalgar Square. Once there, she searched frantically through the sea of people, determined to find this woman. She walked down the staircase and looked to the fountain. Sure enough, there she was, her eyes and fingers glued to her Blackberry. She casually walked over and sat down beside her, her eyes staring straight forward.

"I didn't think you were still working for him," Alexis told her. "It's been over a year since I last saw you."

Anthea chuckled. "With a job like mine, Alexis, there really is no quitting."

"Right."

She looked up from her Blackberry. "He'd like to have tea again."

"Oh yes?"

"Yes. A car should be approaching any second. We'll be going to a different café this time. He knew you wouldn't want to go to Maison Bertaux."

Alexis looked down at her lap. "He would, wouldn't he?"

She smiled, looking back at her phone. "Always."

Not a minute later, a black car pulled up just outside the fountain area. The two women got in, and ten minutes later, they approached "The Capital" tearoom.

"You'll have the place to yourself again," Anthea said, her eyes still glued to the phone. "It was difficult, but he was intent on speaking with you."

"I'm sure." Alexis pushed the door open, looking back at her once more. "Thanks for the ride."

She looked over at her, smirking. "Anytime."

She got out of the car and walked slowly to the front doors, looking around for any sort of guard like there'd been the first time. After seeing none, she entered the building and started searching each room. The place seemed utterly deserted; that is, until she was suddenly approached by a tall man in dark clothing. The guard.

"This way please, Miss Gilmore."

He escorted her to a room on the opposite side of the building, and, just as expected, she found Mycroft sitting at a table in the back corner. The guard stopped at the doorway, turning around to keep an eye out as Mycroft stood from his seat.

"Glad you could make it, Alexis," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

"Did I really have much of a choice, Mycroft?"

He said nothing, and she took the seat across from him. He poured her a cup of tea.

"Same as our previous meeting. PG Tips. Decaf."

"I can see that." Her tone was polite, but he could detect the underlying anger in her voice.

"Three packets of sugar?" he checked, pushing the dish of packets toward her.

"I'll have it black today, thanks."

"You don't appear very happy to be here, Alexis."

She exhaled. "Well, I guess I'm just worried about getting back to work in time."

He took a sip of his tea. "There's going to be a traffic jam starting on Sloane Street. It will take you twice the time to return to the Gallery. Your boss will hear about it and he'll understand perfectly."

She nodded. "How convenient."

"I understand you've taken up new residence. 22 Gayfere Street, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

"You lived there with your grandmother once before."

"I did. You're not telling my anything I didn't already know, Mycroft, so I'm not particularly impressed." She smiled slightly, not wanting to seem overly rude. Believe it or not, she didn't completely hate him.

He nodded. "Have you seen John at all?"

"Not much," she said, taking her first sip of tea.

"Perhaps you should. He's been missing you terribly."

"Did he tell you that?" She was legitimately curious now.

"I've had people keeping an eye on the two of you, and from what I've heard regarding him, let's just say…he could use a friend." He flashed her his trademark grin, though it wasn't as sarcastic as it usually seemed.

"I'll have to get together with him, then."

"Indeed, right after that lunch with your Gallery friend."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Jesse?"

"Who else?"

She smirked. "I guess Anthea just happened to overhear our conversation as I was leaving."

"Believe it or not, it wasn't something I was initially keen of. I could tell immediately that the young man had an interest in you, but there was little hope of anything more than friendship between the two of you."

She shrugged. "Well, you know why that is."

He cleared his throat. "Alexis-"

"John told me you apologized to him," she said, cutting him off. "After he figured out what you did."

His face fell, and he looked down at his cup. "I did."

"That's not something you do very often, is it?"

He said nothing, sipping his tea once more.

"I know it's not, because you and Sherlock are a lot alike. He only ever apologized when it really mattered."

"Alexis," he began, setting down his cup. "I never intended for any of this to happen. Believe me." His tone was calm, but she could tell he was just about pleading with her. He was sincere.

"I know, but it doesn't necessarily excuse you handing over your brother's life story to that monster."

"I am well aware. Despite what you or John may think, I do regret it."

She leaned forward. "I can tell you do. Look, while I'm not at a point where I can apologize for slapping you at Sherlock's funeral, I don't completely hate you, either."

Once again, he said nothing. He didn't know what to say to her.

She sighed, slowly getting up from the table.

"Mycroft, I'm not sure that either of us were ready for direct confrontation just yet, least of all you. Maybe we can try this again in another year or two."

She turned on her heel and began to walk out of the room.

"He was once into drugs you know," he told her.

She spun around and glared at him. "Stop it."

"Stop what? Telling you the truth? Sherlock was far from a perfect man, Alexis."

"Well duh!" She walked back over to him as he stood up, stopping not a foot in front of him. "He was incredibly imperfect, but I know there are reasons for that! And no, I have no idea specifically what those reason are, because he never told me! I know nothing about Sherlock's past, Mycroft. And I'm not about to read that expose to find out." She could feel her throat tightening. "He didn't want me to know anything about his life, that much I'm sure of. And I don't want to know. I'm respecting his wishes and his memory. You should, too."

With that, she walked out of the restaurant and re-entered the car. At first, she said nothing, but when she was halfway back to the Gallery, she asked Anthea to redirect the driver to the Bunhill Fields cemetery. There was something she had to do, and she couldn't put it off any longer.


	52. Chapter 51

_**Forgive me if it feels like I'm jumping too soon into different events in the same chapter. I just don't want to throw out tiny, two page chapters onto the site, so I combine them all into the same chapter at a time. I feel like I might have done that in this chapter, but I wasn't sure what else to do. :/ Otherwise, though, I don't think it's that bad. ;)**_

_**Another song:**_

_**Hurt by Christina Aguilera (I think it relates for the most part)**_

_**Black-Rose Marley: Wow you sound dedicated! I really appreciate it, but please eat! Food is good! And I love "Sherlexis"! Full credit to you for coining that phrase, er, pairing word or whatever the hell you call it!**_

_**Topaz16: I'm glad you caught up! And I'm glad you love the songs! I put a lot of thought into them as well, and there are a few that are just so perfect! And you won't have to worry about Jesse, as you see in this chapter.**_

* * *

The car dropped Alexis off at the cemetery, and she instructed them to leave. She planned on being there for a while, and though she would no longer have the traffic jam alibi to fall back on, it was more important that she be at the cemetery. She needed to visit Sherlock's grave.

The last time she'd been to his grave, or the whole cemetery for that matter, had been the day of his funeral. Since then, she couldn't bring herself to go back. She feared that looking at a gravestone with Sherlock's name on it would cause her to completely break down, and that she would never come back from the pain.

However, she knew she couldn't stay away forever, and she needed to give him the respect he deserved.

When she came upon his grave, she stood about ten feet from it. She closed her eyes, her fears of breaking down after seeing his name on the stone starting to come true. Her throat tightened, and she felt tears stinging at her eyes, but she told herself she had to stay strong. She wanted and needed to do this.

She walked all the way up to the grave and rested her hand on the top of it, stroking her fingers across it.

"Hi baby," she whispered. "I, um…I went to see your brother today. Could've been better. Could've been worse, too."

She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath.

"I've been thinking about you a lot. Well, I've thought about you everyday, obviously. There was, um one thing in particular."

She moved down to kneel on the ground, straightening her hair and her skirt as she did so.

"It was that night we first kissed. You know, how I went to the college, then we went to the Chinese place on Baker Street, and you walked me home and we…kissed." She laughed a bit, looking up at the sky as she remembered how she felt that night. "The whole time, I had so many butterflies in my stomach. I was so nervous…but it was the good kind of nervous, you know? And then when we kissed…I'd never felt anything like that before. And I never felt anything like that since. I know that sounds bad, but it's not. I lived for every kiss you gave me after that one…but you can only have one first kiss, you know?"

She reached out and touched his grave once more, her hand running down his name.

"I'm glad it was you."

A tear escaped her eye, and she caught it before it could roll down her cheek.

"After the first month, I started to get better. I wasn't just a zombie who just slept and cried all day. I realized that I wasn't keeping up on my promise to be strong, so I got tough. I wanted to make you proud of me."

More tears filled her eyes. Her lips began to tremble.

"Are you proud of me? I don't…I don't know if you are. I'll never know!"

She wrapped her arms around herself, and she began to cry silently.

"There is so much we'll never know, Sherlock! Why did you leave me? Why did you kill yourself? Why did you want me and John and everyone else to think you were a fake? Because let me tell you something, you were _not _a fake! You were real! You were a genius! You were the smartest, sweetest, strongest…hell, you were the best man I knew, and now you're gone!"

She choked off on a sob, and she began to cry uncontrollably. She didn't care if anyone else was around to see; she needed to get this out. After a minute or so, she managed to calm herself down enough to continue.

"Sherlock…you saved my life. And I'm not just talking about the night we met. I was so…alone before I met you. I was only really living half a life. Things weren't bad, but they weren't great, either. You changed that. You made my life so wonderful and interesting. You gave me a reason to live." She reached up and wiped her eyes. "So now what? I mean, you're gone. You took your own life, and you just want me to go on?"

She shook her head and stood up, pacing around in front of the stone. She didn't like where she was going with this. She felt like she was giving up, basically telling Sherlock that life wasn't worth it. Even if part of her did feel that way, she didn't want him to be worried about the grim possibility of following in his footsteps. She sat back down and put her hand on the stone.

"You did want me to, though. You made me promise to be strong, and even in your last moments, you wanted John to know that you loved me." She pulled her hand back to kiss it and pressed it firmly to the stone. "I will. I will be strong and I will go on, I promise. But it'll be hard. Knowing that I'll never see you again…never hold you or kiss you…never get to see you do one of your deductions." She couldn't help but smile at the thought of him in action. "God, you were brilliant, no matter what you wanted us to believe, you were brilliant."

She stood up from the grave, looking up to the sky briefly.

"As long as I have you watching over me, I know I have a chance."

Her gaze returned to the stone, and she smiled lovingly at it.

"I love you, Sherlock Holmes. I always will."

With that, she hands pressed to her heart, turning on her heel and walking out of the cemetery. Deep in her heart, she knew Sherlock had heard what she said. Just as he always did.

However, what she didn't know was that, just as in John's case, Sherlock had heard her from just a few feet away. He'd followed her to the cemetery, and he listened to her as she cried at his grave. Her words went straight to his heart, and he couldn't fight the single tear that escaped from his eye. He hated that he did this to her, making her believe that he was dead. He'd been watching her for those two months, cursing himself every time she shed a tear. He wanted to be with her so much. He wanted her and John to know that he was alive, and that he would come back to them soon.

But there was a lot he still had to do. Things that required he be dead in the public eye. If he were to come back now, he would guarantee the true death of everyone he loved. So, Alexis would have to stay strong for a little while longer. He only hoped that he could remain strong, too.

* * *

September 1, 2012

It had been weeks since the plan was made, but Alexis and Jesse were finally able to get together. They arranged to have lunch on a Saturday, since neither of them worked that day and they didn't want to be rushed. They met at The Loose Box Bar and Kitchen around noon, and they could hardly stop talking since the moment they were seated.

"Hey, so, I've been meaning to ask you," Jesse began as the waiter brought their food over, pausing a moment until she left. "You have a birthday coming up don't you?"

"Mmm, yeah. The, er, 9th."

"That soon? God, I can't believe I didn't remember."

"It's not a big deal. It's not something I go around announcing, and I'm not really into birthdays anymore, anyway."

He took a bite of his sandwich. "I guess I get that. I'm personally not much of a fan of getting older."

"Likewise," she replied, taking a sip of her iced tea.

He chuckled. "Come on, you're not the one getting older here. I mean, you can't be any older than, what, twenty-five?"

Alexis nearly choked on her drink. Why on Earth would he think she was that young?

She nervously laughed and looked down at her chicken. "Yeah, no, I'm going to be twenty-eight."

"Are you serious? You look so-"

"Young?"

"Yeah," he said quietly, taking another bite.

She immediately felt bad and rested her hand on his arm. "I've always looked younger than I am. Everyone always guesses way below my real age. It used to get to me, you know, when I was in high school or my early twenties, but now I find it flattering."

He smiled, secretly relieved. "I just didn't realize we were the same age."

"Really? When was your birthday?"

"It's November 5th."

"Ah, so I'm technically older than you?"

"Only by, like, two months."

She nudged his arm, smirking at him. He cleared his throat.

"Yeah, that was one of the reasons I was surprised you were dating Sherlock. I know you once told me you wouldn't date anyone too much older than you. I seriously thought he had ten years on you."

Her face fell, and she looked back down at her plate, playing with the chicken and avocado with her fork. "No, he had six years on me."

Jesse ran a hand over his face, sighing. "I'm sorry I brought up Sherlock again. I don't know why I'm doing it."

"I think you're just curious about him, Jesse." She took a bite and looked up at him. "Are you?"

"Yeah, kind of," he replied sheepishly. "It's just…this guy made you so happy, and it tore you apart when he died. He must have been something special if he made you feel that way."

She smiled, nodding her head. "Yeah…yeah, he really was."

He looked down at his plate uncomfortably before asking the next question. "Did he really lie about everything?"

"No. He wanted us to think he did, but I know he didn't. And you can believe whatever you want to believe, Jesse, I'm just telling you-"

"Hey." He gently cut her off, noting her hurried tone. He rested his hand over hers. "Alexis, I never said he lied. I don't know enough about what happened to make a proper judgment like you do. If you say he wasn't a liar, then I'll believe it."

She looked at him with grateful disbelief. "Jesse, that's…thank you."

"Absolutely. I just can't…uh, never mind."

He let go of her hand and took another bite of his sandwich.

Alexis was bewildered. "No, what were you going to say?"

"It's not important, Alexis."

"Yes, it is. Come on, Jesse, let's just be honest with each other for once."

He took a deep breath. "I was just going to say that, even though I believe in the guy, I'm still jealous of him."

Her eyes widened a bit. "Jealous?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Look, it's not exactly a secret that I've had a thing for you since, well, just about the day we met. I came into the Gallery two years ago, scared shitless with no clue where to go. You approached me asking if I needed assistance, and bam. I was hooked."

Alexis took a sip of her tea, not entirely sure of where this conversation was going, but feeling uncomfortable nonetheless.

"But now, as I've gotten to know you, and having seen what you've gone through…I realize that we'd never be anything."

She looked at him sadly. "You have?"

"Yes. Like I said, you were so happy when you were with Sherlock, and you were devastated when he died. You must have loved him more than anything…and I could never make you feel the way he did."

She couldn't help herself. She reached out and pulled him to her, hugging him tightly.

"Jesse…I'm sorry. You are amazing, but you're right. We never really had a shot." She pulled away and looked at him, smiling slightly. "And, if it makes you feel any better, I thought you were really hot when I first saw you that day. I actually thought I was blushing."

Jesse laughed. "Well, that's, uh, that's definitely flattering. Thanks Alexis."

"Thank _you_, Jesse."

"And even if we could never be…together, I'm still really glad I can call you a friend. It's more like a privilege, actually."

Alexis went to reply, but she suddenly found herself remembering something. What Jesse just said to her sparked a memory; something that happened a long time ago that sounded eerily familiar.

_"Your words count. You count. I consider it a privilege to call you a friend."_

She became lost in thought and hadn't realized that she'd been staring straight ahead of her, her eyes going out of focus. Jesse looked at her for a moment before nudging her arm.

"Alexis, you okay?"

She snapped out of her trance, and she smiled slightly at him.

"Yes, fine. Thank you, Jesse. That was sweet."

"Sure." He smiled politely, but inside he didn't have a clue what had just happened.

For the rest of lunch, they sat in almost complete silence, only uttering a few words to order fresh drinks and then to debate on who would pay for the lunch and the tip. Jesse ended up covering everything, and Alexis didn't protest much. Her mind was elsewhere, and he knew that. He knew he must have said something wrong, and he cursed himself for it.

"Do you want to share a cab?" Jesse asked as they walked out onto the sidewalk.

It took a moment for Alexis to answer, and she whipped her head towards him.

"No, actually, I think I'm going to stick around here for a bit. A friend of mine is going to be at the bar soon, so I thought I'd join them."

"You sure?" he asked, not entirely sure if she was telling the truth.

"Yeah, definitely!" She took a step closer to him and rested her hands on his arms. "Thank you for lunch, Jesse. I think this is just what we needed." She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

He tried desperately to hide his surprised, but he failed quickly once he started to stutter.

"Y-yeah, er, definitely. Thanks, A-Alexis. See you."

He walked to the edge of the sidewalk and quickly flagged down a cab. He waved at her briefly before getting in and driving off, Alexis watching until the car disappeared from sight.

Her face dropped as she thought deeper about what Sherlock had said that night, and how it ended in the two of them kissing for the first time. She'd thought about it before, but why did it make her so upset now? It's not like that would have happened with Jesse. He made it perfectly clear that he knew nothing would ever happen between them, and Alexis was content with that.

At least she thought she was.

She felt herself becoming overwhelmed, and the only thing she could think to do was go back into The Loose Box and head straight back to the bar, just as she told Jesse she would. Only she wouldn't have a friend with her. She would be alone.

* * *

John sat on a bench by himself in Battersea Park, looking out onto the Thames and watching countless people pass by on the sidewalk. It was almost three p.m., and he'd been sitting in his tiny, dark flat all morning until he couldn't take the silence anymore. It was the main reason why he hated weekends now. He didn't have work, so he would just sit in his quiet little flat, waiting for Monday to arrive once again.

He'd been so taken in by the beauty of the scenery that he didn't notice his phone ringing in his pocket at first. He jumped a bit at the sudden noise, and when he looked down at the number on the phone, he didn't initially recognize it.

"Hello?" he greeted, furrowing his brow.

_"Hello, is this John Watson?" _the man at the other end of the line asked.

"Yes, who is this?"

_"John, you might not remember me personally, but my name is Joe Taylor. I'm one of the bar tenders at The Loose Box Bar and Kitchen. We've spoken a few times when you used to stop by every other week or so."_

"Oh, right, yeah I remember. What can I do for you?"

_"Well, I've got a young lady here by the name of…Alexis. She came into the bar a few hours ago, and, well, she doesn't seem to be doing very well."_

John stood up from the bench. "Is she alright? Is she, you know…?"

_"A bit knackered, but I gave her a cup of coffee a while ago and she seems to be doing better. She wasn't making a scene or anything, she was just…"_

"Just what, Joe?"

_"Well…she was crying. Quietly, to herself. I managed to get your name out of her, so I thought you might want to come down. Take her home, you know?"_

"Absolutely. I'll be there as soon as I can. Thanks, Joe."

_"Anytime."_

He hung up the phone and jogged out of the park, not stopping once until he hailed a cab and directed it to The Loose Box. He tipped the driver extra for going faster than he should have, and he ran full speed into the bar, stopping dead in his tracks when he spotted Alexis hunched over at the bar. His heart sunk, and he slowly walked over and took the seat next to her.

"Hey," he greeted, rubbing her back. "Everything okay, Alexis?"

She slowly lifted her head to look at him, and his heart sunk even lower at the sight of her face. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and she had virtually no expression. In a way, she looked like death.

"When did you get here?" she asked weakly.

"Er, just now. Joe phoned me. What's going on? Why were you crying?"

She snickered bitterly. "Why the hell not, John? There's so much to cry about these days. I'm surprised I stopped!" She took a sip of her coffee, grimacing when she realized it had gone cold.

"Did something happen?"

She sighed. Her mind had sobered out almost completely, and she knew she could trust John enough to talk to him. "Well, I came-"

She'd leaned forward to talk to him, but ended up sliding forward onto him. He caught her just before she could stumble to the ground, and he stood them both up.

"You okay?" he asked as he steadied her.

She put her hand against her forehead. "I'm fine."

"Come on, I'll take you back to your flat, and we can talk more there."

He wrapped an arm around her waist and slowly started to walk them both out, pausing briefly to wave at Joe before walking out onto the sidewalk. It took Alexis a few seconds to remember her address, and once she did, John hailed them a cab and they were on their way to her flat.

"Wait, wait, can you pull up a bit farther, please?" Alexis asked the driver as they pulled up in front of Miss Abernathy's door.

"What for, Alexis?" John asked her.

"Because my landlady lives right there, and I don't want her to see me drunk."

John nodded at the driver, and he drove down a few more doors before stopping once more. Alexis stumbled out of the cab, and John grabbed hold of her wrist as he paid the driver.

"Come on, I've got you," he said, securing his arm around her waist once more as he walked them carefully up the stairs. She fished her keys out of her purse and handed them to John, and he was thankful he found the right key quickly. They entered the flat, and Alexis immediately walked over to her couch and plopped down onto it. John sat down in the armchair next to her, watching her closely.

"Anything I can get you? More coffee, maybe?" he asked her.

"I don't have any, but if you could get me an aspirin from the cupboard, I'd really appreciate it."

"Of course. I'll get you some water, too. That'll help."

He retrieved both things, and he took a seat next to her as she swallowed the aspirin and the water. She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands.

"So, what happened, Alexis?" he asked, resting his hand on her back. "You started to tell me, but then-"

"I fell," she finished, smirking. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Not a problem. Now, come on, then."

She sat up and leaned back on the couch, turning her head to look over at John.

"Well, I was already at the restaurant. I was having lunch with a friend of mine, Jesse. I've known him a little while. Anyway, things were going good for a while, then we started talking about Sherlock."

John shut his eyes and nodded. "Right. Go on."

"The thing is, Jesse has had a thing for me ever since he came to England. He's never been too keen on hiding it, either."

He sat forward. "Alexis, he didn't try anything, did he?"

"No. The exact opposite, actually."

He furrowed his brow. "What, did he insult you? Hurt you or anything?"

"No! God, John, he was a fucking gentleman! He flat out told me he had a thing for me at first, but then he said that he knew we could never be together because of how much I loved Sherlock. Hell, he even said he believed that Sherlock wasn't a fake…because I know he wasn't. He basically bowed out gracefully and told me he was glad to be my friend, and that kind of reminded me of something Sherlock said and I freaked out. So I stayed behind after he left and got drunk as I submersed myself in my thoughts of Sherlock." She buried her face in her hands once more.

John sighed and put his arm around her. "I'm sorry, Alexis. Believe me, it's happened to me, too."

She looked up at him. "John, I've been trying so hard. _So hard_. But I just can't move on. I can't get past the pain. I feel like I finally reach a point where I'm happy and I'm confident that I'm going to be okay, but then something like this happens, and the pain comes back! I don't want to just stop thinking about him completely, but it hurts too much!"

She began to sob once more, and John promptly gathered her into his arms and brought her into a hug. He stroked her hair as she cried into his chest, gripping his shirt as her sobs grew more intense.

"I know it hurts, Alexis. It hurts me, too. He was my best friend, and I loved him, too. I don't think the pain ever goes away. It just gets easier with time, and it's only been three months."

"It feels like it's been forever," she managed through her sobs.

"I know it has."

She pulled away from him. "John, I don't know what I'm going to do without him. I know it's only been three months, but I still can't take the pain. Sometimes I feel like I don't even want to live anymore."

"No." He took hold of her face and held it gently in her hands. "Don't ever say that, Alexis. Don't even think it. Sherlock loved you, and he wants you to live. He wants all of us to move on."

More tears rolled down her cheeks. "John, I can't just move on when the man I'm in love with is dead."

"Yes, yes you can, Alexis! You won't even be alone. You have me, Gwen, Mrs. Hudson…"

She let out another sob. "I know…but it's not the same without Sherlock."

He sighed, looking down at his lap. "I know. Nothing is the same without Sherlock."

Alexis looked at him sadly. He was hurting just as much as she was, and it made her want to cry even more. As she continued to look at him, he slowly raised his head and locked their gaze. She was suddenly overcome with so much emotion, so much pain and so much love. Without even realizing it, she'd moved forward and pressed her lips to his.

John was immediately taken aback, but he didn't pull away from her at first. The feeling of Alexis kissing him was wonderful, almost comforting. He moved his hands to rest on her neck and their lips mingled a bit longer, moving in almost perfect sync with each other.

However, Alexis soon came to her senses and ripped herself away from him.

"John, oh my God, I'm so sorry! I can't believe I-"

"No, no, it was my fault. I should have-"

"No, I just kissed you! It was so inappropriate, I should never have-"

"Alexis, Alexis…" He gripped her arms firmly and looked into her eyes. "It's okay. We kissed. It's not against the law, but we won't do it again, okay?"

She knew he was making perfect sense, but the guilt that stabbed at her heart bubbled over and she was sobbing once more. He pulled her back into his arms and held her tightly, rocking them back and forth gently. He felt guilty about the kiss as well, but he didn't want it to show. He needed to be strong for Alexis, so he held her close until the two of them drifted off to sleep.


	53. Chapter 52

_**Looks like I shocked a lot of people with that last chapter! **_

_**Also, if you would like to see what Katharine looks like, look up actress Rachel Hurd-Wood.**_

_**Another thing, with work and college coming up, I probably won't have chapters up every single day, but they will be there and as frequent as possible!**_

_**Midnight Angel414: Thank you for the reassurance!**_

_**Topaz16: Lol yeah I figured that would really freak people out. But don't worry, I can say that I won't be pairing Alexis with anyone else.**_

* * *

Alexis woke up in John's arms a few hours later. She frowned as soon as she remembered what they'd done, and she carefully maneuvered her way out of his grasp and stood up in front of the couch. She knew it was silly to think she'd betrayed Sherlock, but John was his best friend. That was a boundary not to be crossed.

However, as she looked down at John's sleeping form, her mood improved slightly. She knew John was a good friend; to both her and Sherlock. He didn't have to come for her when she was drunk in The Loose Box, but he did. He was there for her not only that night, but many times before. It was the same thing with Sherlock. He put up with so much from him, but he remained by his side no matter what. She was glad that it was _he _whom she kissed and not some random creep.

She knelt down in front of him and stroked her thumb across his cheek, making him stir almost immediately. He slowly opened his eyes and stretched his arms, grunting as he did so. Once he could focus his eyes, he looked over at Alexis in confusion.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, slowly moving to sit up.

"Yeah, I'm better now, thanks. Just woke up myself." She glanced over at the door. "You hungry?"

"Er, yeah. Starving, actually." He rubbed his eyes briefly and stood up. "Are you sure you're going to be alright?"

She exhaled. "Well, like you said, it'll take a while for the pain to go away. I'm sure I'll be able to manage in the meantime."

He nodded, and as he started to walk toward the door, Alexis pulled him in for a hug. He didn't expect it at first, but he wrapped his arms around her nonetheless.

"Thank you, John," she whispered.

"Anytime, Alexis." He gently pulled away from her and smiled. "So, what'll it be?"

"Um…pizza okay?"

"Sounds great. Shall we?"

He held his arm out toward the door, and they went off to have dinner, neither bothering to dwell on what had just occurred and instead look to the future. At least for now.

* * *

September 9, 2012

It was Alexis's twenty-eight birthday, and it was anything but happy for her. Since the night she kissed John, she felt different. Before that night, she'd been feeling generally happy and content about things. However, because John told her that the pain would take longer than just three months to go away, it left her feeling like she hadn't really been happy at all. Like she'd been faking it.

Either way, she wasn't happy that day at all. It was a Sunday, but the Gallery scheduled her to work anyway. She had to drag herself out of bed in order to shower and get dressed, and she hardly ate anything for breakfast. And when it came time for her to go and get a cab for work, she groaned aloud at the thought of standing around the Gallery all day doing God knows what.

She knew very well that she was being negative, but she didn't want to do anything about it.

As she closed and locked the door to her flat behind her, she could swear she heard a noise but just wrote it off. However, she was startled when she turned around and found Miss Abernathy standing there. She yelped and made her jump a bit.

"Miss Abernathy, I'm sorry, you just scared me," Alexis said, clutching her chest as she caught her breath.

"It's quite alright, dear. I just wanted to pop by and wish you a happy birthday before you went off to work."

Her eyes widened slightly. "You…you remembered?"

"Oh, of course! Since you've been living here, I've been slowly starting to remember things about you and your grandmother. Each of your birthdays were one of those things. If you don't mind my asking, how old are you now? I know you were quite young when you originally moved in, but that was ages ago."

She nodded. "I'm twenty eight."

"Oh, well that's not old at all! Not that you look it, of course. I was just remembering…"

Miss Abernathy clearly felt uncomfortable, but Alexis smiled warmly at her.

"Thank you, Miss Abernathy."

She smiled. "Well, I know you have to be off to work now, so I hope you have a good day, dear."

"Thank you. I'll see you later, alright?"

"Goodbye, dear."

Alexis hailed a cab and was off to work.

* * *

Just as suspected, Alexis wasn't taken out for a birthday lunch as in the previous years. Since she'd gone back to work, a lot of the employees looked at her differently apart from a select few. It wasn't that she minded the lack of attention; in fact, she adored that part of it. It was the reason why they were looking at her differently. Being the girlfriend of the "fraudulent detective who took his own life" didn't earn you much respect, or general human contact, among your colleagues.

Dr. McPhee had wished her a happy birthday, however, and she received a voicemail from both Gwen and John during the first half of her shift. She listened to them both just before she was going to lunch, and her smile as she listened attracted the attention of another person standing outside of the Gallery.

"Alexis?" came a female voice.

Alexis turned to her left to find Katharine, one of the new employees, standing beside her.

"Katharine, hi," she replied, her voice sounding more surprised than she'd intended.

"Listening to some birthday wishes, were you?"

She glanced down at her phone. "Uh, yeah, h-how did you know?"

"They've got birthdays by month up on the bulletin bored. They've been doing it since late June. I don't think you were here for that… Oh, but anyway, happy birthday!"

"Thank you, Katharine. I appreciate that."

"Of course! Were you off to lunch, then?"

"Yes, yes I was."

Katharine looked down at the ground a moment, obviously unsure of what she was going to say.

"Did you want to join me, Katharine?" Alexis asked, ducking her head down a bit.

"Oh! I would love that, but I was thinking more along the lines of treating you. Since it's your birthday. I know nobody else is offering to take you, which I think is just wrong considering they do it for others, so I thought I would. Not-Not out of pity or anything, because I would never do that! I really do want to."

Katharine was growing visibly nervous, and it endeared Alexis. She rested a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her.

"I would love nothing more."

Katharine smiled wide. "Great! Where to, then? We don't have much time, so it will have to be some place within the area, I'm afraid."

"Not a problem. How about the Angus Steakhouse?"

"Great! We can walk from here."

Alexis couldn't help but giggle as she walked off quickly, being sure to catch up and keep up as best she could. Katharine was a nice girl. She'd recently graduated from the university and came to work for the Gallery as a museum archivist. Alexis had seen her around before as a volunteer worker, but she mostly worked at night because of school. And aside from being one of the sweetest girls she'd ever met, she was also gorgeous. Long, flowing red hair, bright, blue eyes, and flawless pale skin. She was basically perfect, and she was definitely going places.

They arrived at the steakhouse fairly quickly due to their fast-paced walking, and were seated immediately. Alexis ordered the barbeque roast chicken, while Katharine ordered the fish scampi. They had to be back at the Gallery in forty-five minutes, so they couldn't get anything too messy.

After they ordered, there was a brief silence between them before Katharine spoke again.

"So, how old are you turning?" she asked, and her facial expression immediately after showed she regretted the question. "Sorry! That was a bit of a frank question. You don't have to tell me."

Alexis smiled at her. "It's okay. I'm turning twenty-eight today."

"Really? You don't look it. Then again, I don't suppose twenty-eight looks old anyway."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't. It depends on the person."

She nodded. "Well, I myself am twenty-two, but I look like I'm still sixteen. I've always been cursed with looking so much younger than I really am."

She chuckled. "You're talking to the queen of that curse, Katharine."

Katharine smiled sheepishly. "Well, either way, you're still very pretty, Alexis."

Alexis smiled even bigger at her than before. "Thank you, Katharine. That was so sweet."

"Well, I'm not the only one who thinks it. A lot of people at the Gallery really like you, Alexis."

She couldn't help but snicker a bit as she picked up her drink. "Not lately."

Katharine looked down at her lap. "Nevertheless, there are still people there who think highly of you, including me. I know this isn't something people flat out say to each other anymore…but I really admire you, Alexis. I know we haven't talked very much, but I know that you are a good person and you are incredibly good at your job."

Alexis's bitterness faded and she looked at Katharine with admiration. She couldn't believe how outright kind she was being to her, and she could tell she really meant it, too. She reached out and touched her hand across the table.

"Katharine…the feeling's mutual," she told her, smiling. "And I have-"

She was cut off by the sound of her phone ringing in her purse.

"Oh, damn, sorry," she said as she searched through her purse, finally finding it on the bottom. When she looked at the number of the caller, she grew extremely confused. It was unlike any number she'd seen in a while. It looked like it was coming from another country; specifically America.

"Is everything alright?" Katharine asked her.

She looked up at her quickly, hitting the "End" button and throwing her phone back into her purse.

"Yeah, it's fine. Just a wrong number."

"Right. Oh, look, here comes lunch."

The waitress brought over their meals, and they wasted no time in digging in. Alexis was just about finished with her chicken when she heard her voicemail alert go off, and she nearly choked. Part of her knew who it was who was calling her, but she just didn't want to deal with it at that point. Without Katharine noticing, she quickly reached into her purse and cleared her voicemail counter. It was better that way.

The two of them arrived back at the Gallery with almost ten minutes to spare, and they sat on the very top step to pass the time.

"I really appreciate you taking me out, Katharine," Alexis told her. "When's your birthday? I'd like to treat you, as well."

She smiled nervously. "Oh, that's alright, Alexis. You really don't have to. It's a long way off, anyway, who knows if you'll still be able to? Or want to?"

"Katharine, believe me, I'll want to. You know how you 'flat out' told me that you admire me, and that people don't 'flat out' say things like that to one another anymore?"

Katharine nodded.

"Well, I'm going to do the same for you. You are such a sweet person. You are kind and you have hardly any limits to that kindness. Though I don't know you very well, I'd say that your kindness and loyalty is unconditional when it comes to certain people. Am I right?"

She blushed, unsure of how to respond. "Well, I-I don't really…um…"

Alexis smiled. "I'll take that as a yes. There are so few people like you anymore, Katharine. Don't ever change, okay?"

Katharine smiled. "I won't. Thank you, Alexis. And my birthday is December 17th."

"Great. I'll clear my schedule."

They smiled and returned to work.

* * *

Alexis didn't go home right away after work. Her conversation with Katharine earlier that day got her thinking. When she'd told her that there weren't many people like her in terms of unconditional kindness and loyalty, she'd meant it. However, she didn't mean there weren't any people like that at all. She'd started to think of one person in particular, someone she hadn't seen or spoken to in a while. Truth be told, she hadn't seen or spoken to this person much since she met them. There wasn't much reason for them to talk much, let alone be friends. But she needed to talk to this person. She needed to let them know how she felt.

She arrived at St. Bartholomew's at 6:30, making a B-line straight for the labs as soon as she walked through the doors.

After searching for nearly ten minutes, she finally peaked through the right door and found Molly Hooper working at one of the counters. She decided to knock first, unsure if anyone else was in there and not wanting to interrupt a group project or anything.

She knocked three times, and Molly's head whipped up to face the door. She clearly couldn't tell who it was, as she hurried to clean a few things up and didn't once go near the door.

"Come in!" she finally announced cheerily.

Alexis pushed the door open slowly and cautiously entered the lab. Molly took one look at her and her eyes went wide.

"Alexis? I wasn't expecting it to be you. What are you doing here? Oh, sorry if that sounded rude."

She couldn't help but smile. She sounded exactly like Katharine.

"It's okay, it wasn't rude. I, um…I guess I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Molly looked confused. "How do you mean?"

"Well, the last time I saw you was…Sherlock's funeral, and we said maybe two words to each other. For that, I blame myself. I wasn't exactly in the talking mood."

"I don't think anyone really was, Alexis." She managed a sad smile.

She nodded. "Even so, I know Sherlock was your friend, and you're probably hurting a bit, too. Right?"

Molly looked down at the floor. "I suppose so. And even if I considered him a friend, I'm not entirely sure the feeling was mutual."

"It was, Molly. It definitely was."

She smiled slightly. "You think so?"

"Of course!" She stepped closer to her. "That night, when Sherlock was, well, almost arrested, he came to see me. He told me what you said to him earlier that day. About how if he ever needed anything, that you would be there for him."

Now she looked embarrassed. Afraid, even. "Oh, he did? Well, you know, I mean, I mean I didn't-"  
"Molly." Alexis reached out and rested her hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. "Don't be nervous. I just wanted to thank you for telling him that."

"You…you did?"

"Yes. Look, Molly, I know I probably haven't always been the nicest person to you, but it means so much that he had a friend like you. He needed that kind of reassurance at that point in his life. It was obviously a really dark time for him." She bit her lip, as she felt the emotions bubbling up inside of her.

"I didn't know you felt that way. To be honest, Alexis, I was always quite jealous of you."

She merely furrowed her eyebrows at her.

"Sherlock hardly ever gave me the time of day, only when he needed a favor. At least up until the day before he… Anyway, you always had his full attention. He really loved you."

She smiled, though she felt her throat tightening. "Thank you, Molly, I really appreciate you saying that."

"Oh, you don't need to thank me," she replied cheerfully, though her face fell all of a sudden. "Alexis, are you crying?"

"What? No, I'm-"

She reached up to touch her cheek, and discovered that a few tears had escaped her eyes. She sniffled and wiped them away, smiling sadly at Molly.

"I guess I am. I was just thinking…"

"About?"

"About how Sherlock took his own life. He was in over his head, right? He wanted us to believe he was a fake, even though he really wasn't. I have no idea how dark it became in his mind near the end, but I can't help thinking…" She trailed off as she struggled to hold back the tears.

Molly stepped closer and laid a supportive hand on her arm.

"Can't help thinking what, Alexis?"

"That maybe if I loved him better, that he would still be alive."

She looked at her sadly. "Oh, Alexis, he knew that-"

Alexis held up her hand. "No, it's okay, you don't have to say anything." She closed the gap between them and gave her a hug. "Thank you, Molly, for being his friend."

Without another word, she walked out of the lab. Molly followed her out the door and watched as she walked down the hall and turned out of sight. She sighed and walked back into the lab, only to find that the door to the storage closet had been opened. She ran over and looked into the small room, and it was completely empty.

"Sherlock?"


End file.
